The Haven Chronicles
by TRDowden1
Summary: The day Duke Crocker has long feared finally arrives...and the repercussions that follow
1. Day of Reckoning

**The Haven Chronicles**

**Chapter One: Day of Reckoning**

_The day Duke Crocker has long feared finally arrives... and the repercussions that follow._

_I do not own any of these characters_

It was early for him to be there at The Grey Gull, even earlier than usual, but Duke had errands to run before the Gull opened for business. So he'd decided it would just be easier to come in early, before he ran them or Nathan and Audrey dragged him off somewhere. The sun wasn't even up yet, just beginning to gray the horizon. Normally, he was rarely up this early, unless he'd been up all night.

He was just finishing boxing up the empty liquor bottles from the night before, when he heard the front door open.

"Hey, sorry, we're closed right now," he called, and turned to see who was coming in.

He saw a pair of hands reach out to him, and they clasped his face. Duke just had time to glimpse the Guard tattoo on the man's arm, feeling the world slip away from him.

_So this is how it ends_, he just had time to think, and then blackness ensued.

A few hours later at Nathan's house, Audrey was just finishing cooking breakfast, when they saw Dwight's pickup pull up in the driveway.

"We got company," Nathan called to her. "It's Dwight."

"Good thing I made extra pancakes," Audrey grinned. "I called Duke's phone to invite him over, but he doesn't answer."

"It's too early for Duke Crocker to be up and around, especially on a Sunday," Nathan cracked. He noted Dwight hadn't gotten out of the truck yet, as though he were working up to coming to the door. He could see Dwight's grim expression through the windshield of his truck, and Nathan felt the hackles on his neck rise.

"Something's wrong," Nathan said, as Dwight finally got out of the truck and approached the house.

He met Dwight at the door. "Dwight, you're early," he greeted, and then saw Dwight's somber expression. "What's the matter?"

"I wanted—I wanted to come by to tell you before you heard about it on the scanner or from someone else," Dwight began in a low voice. "It's bad, Nathan. It's really bad."

Nathan felt a horrible sense of dread close over him.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Haven PD got a call out at the Gull this morning, from one of the waitresses," Dwight began. "she came in early for shift, and found Duke collapsed on the floor."

"Duke collapsed? Wh-what happened?" Audrey questioned anxiously. "Was he robbed? Did he get hurt?"

Dwight raised his eyes to look at the both of them.

"I got there about the same time the paramedics did," Dwight went on. "They did what they could-but they said it had been too long."

"Too long for what?" Audrey asked, her eyes full of tears. Nathan could feel her grip tightening on his arm, and he clenched his teeth together tightly, feeling his guts tie themselves in knots in his stomach.

_Please don't say what I think you're going to say_, Nathan thought. _Please don't say that, Dwight_. _Anything but that._

"They said that it had been too long since his heart had stopped," Dwight uttered. "They couldn't do anything for him. I'm sorry, Nathan, Audrey. Duke's dead."

"No. No, he can't be," Nathan said. It didn't seem possible-he felt as though he were in a nightmare and couldn't wake up. Duke was _dead_.

Audrey dropped her juice glass, shattering it on the floor.

"Duke's—_dead_?" she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth, her blue eyes filled with tears. "How? _Why_?"

"What happened?" Nathan croaked. He still couldn't believe it; he'd seen him last _night_, and Duke had been the same old Crocker. Now eight hours later, Dwight was standing in his kitchen telling him that his oldest friend was dead.

"We're not sure yet. There was no sign of a struggle, and there's not a mark on him. Gloria's there now, she says she won't know anything until he's autopsied." Dwight frowned, and he blinked hard. "I'm sorry, Nathan."

Audrey began to cry. "I want to go to the Gull," she sobbed, grabbing her purse. "I want to see him for myself."

"They were getting ready to transport him to the morgue when I pulled up here," Dwight told her. "That's where he'll be."

Nathan strapped on his holster, tucking his badge in his back pocket. He wanted to scream at Dwight that he was a liar; but he knew that Dwight would never lie like this, and even Duke's morbid sense of humor would never go this far with a practical joke.

"I want to run the investigation myself," he told Dwight, trying to keep his voice even. "I want to know _why_ he's dead."

"Nathan, you're too involved," Dwight said. "I'm going to run the investigation into his death personally. Whatever happened to him, we're going to find out, and if anyone's responsible-" he trailed off, putting a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "Then they're going down for it. Go see Gloria, and—and then we'll figure out Duke's—arrangements. I don't think Crocker had any family left, did he?"

"His mother, I don't know. I don't think Duke knew if she were still alive either. It wasn't the best relationship," Nathan said. holding Audrey, who sobbed inconsolably into his shoulder. "There's an older brother. Garrett Crocker, I think," he went on, trying his best to keep his emotions under control. "He's the oldest—and the last," he finished softly.

"Any idea where we can reach him?"

"Somewhere in Ireland. Dublin, I believe," Nathan answered woodenly. "That's where he's from."

"Sounds like he and Duke's dad got around," Dwight remarked. "I'll see if we can find a number for him in Duke's effects."

"I w-wanna go to the morgue," Audrey sniffled. "I want to see him for myself."

Nathan nodded, and the three of them left the house. Dwight, to go back to see what he could find; and Nathan and Audrey to face one of their worst fears.

Gloria watched in silence as the stretcher was rolled into the morgue, the black body bag resting atop it. She signed the clipboard the paramedic offered in silence, and one of the ambulance personnel touched her on the shoulder before leaving.

She walked slowly over to the bag, and carefully unzipped it, revealing Duke's pale face. She blinked her eyes to clear them, feeling a tear travel down her cheek.

"You tried so hard, didn't you, kiddo?" she said to him with a catch in her voice. She held his hand in hers, his fingers limp and cool to the touch. "You tried your best for this crazy town."

She heard the morgue door open, and Vince and Dave Teagues slipped inside. Vince's face was a mix of grief and dismay at the sight of Duke lying on the table. Dave took his hat off, twisting it round and round in his hands, looking as though he were doing his best to not break down and cry.

"So it is true," Vince said softly, coming over to the table. "What happened to him, Gloria?"

"So far, I haven't been able to tell anything," Gloria said. Normally, she would bite anyone's head off for asking questions before she'd had a chance to run tests or perform the autopsy, but she just didn't have it in her right now. "There are no marks of violence on him, he wasn't stabbed, strangled, bludgeoned or shot, that's as much as I know without bloodwork."

"How long has he been—deceased?"

Gloria exhaled. "He's room temperature—I'd say somewhere between seven and ten hours, give or take," she went on. Something was nagging at her mind about Duke's death, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Do you think he suffered?" Vince questioned her.

Gloria sighed. "No, I don't think he did, poor kid. Whatever it was, it was quick. He was most likely gone when he hit the ground."

"Perhaps Duke had a hidden medical problem with his heart," Vince suggested.

"The only problem Duke Crocker had with his heart was it was too big when it came to this town," Gloria said, touching Duke's shoulder gently, and both Vince and Dave nodded agreement.

"Do Nathan and Audrey know yet?" Dave asked, looking down at Duke's body.

"Dwight wanted to notify them in person," Gloria uttered. "So they'll probably be along in a minute."

Even as she spoke, Gloria saw the blue blur of the Bronco as it squealed into the parking lot, and she took a deep breath.

"Help me get him out of the bag, so they don't have to see him like this," she told Vince, sniffling, and the three of them worked, easing Duke's body out of the bag as Nathan and Audrey entered the morgue.

Nathan held onto Audrey as they came up to the table.

_Wake up, Duke!_ he screamed mentally. _This is a bad dream, it's not really happening_. Even though they'd fought like cats and dogs throughout their lives, in the last year, Duke had become as close as a brother to him, and he had seemed to feel the same about him. Now he was gone, lying cold and still on a mortuary table in front of him without warning, without even a chance to say goodbye—or to tell him how he felt about him.

Audrey broke down sobbing anew, and cradled Duke's head in her arms. She stroked his hair back from his face, and kissed his forehead tenderly. His face was composed and relaxed, as though he were asleep. His death hadn't appeared to have been painful, and Audrey silently prayed that he hadn't suffered at the end. Fate owed him that much, at least.

"What happened to you?" she asked him, as though he might answer. "I'm so sorry, Duke," she sobbed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. Y-you always were there for me, for all of us, so many times, and I failed you when you needed me the most," she cried, her heart breaking.

"It's not your fault, Audrey," Nathan soothed.

"Nathan's right, Audrey, you couldn't possibly have known. None of us know when our time on earth is going to be through," Vince told her compassionately.

"We're so sorry, honey," Dave said gently, rubbing her shoulder. "Duke was a good friend to you and Nathan—and to Haven."

"Nathan, I know you and he were close—at times," Vince said softly. "This must hurt terribly."

"If you two know _anything_ about this," Nathan answered, his eyes on Duke's face. "Now would be the time to speak up. Don't let me find out you knew something and held back, because I _promise_ you—you will not like the result."

"Nathan, I _swear,_ we had _nothing_ to do with Duke's death. We know as much as you do," Vince told him. "If we can give you any assistance, please call on us."

Audrey still held Duke in her arms, and Nathan gently pulled her back. Audrey fought against him, not wanting to let her friend go, hoping that maybe, some way, she could restore him.

"Audrey—honey," Nathan whispered quietly. "Audrey, you can't fix him now. You can't fix him," he went on, his voice breaking. "Now we have to let Gloria do her job. We have to know why he died."

Audrey nodded, but still held onto Duke for a few moments more, before she finally eased his head back down to the table.

"I want this to be the most thorough autopsy you've ever done," she told Gloria, wiping her eyes. "Run every test possible."

"I will, sweetheart," Gloria promised. "But I do need you all to clear out of here so I can do it."

"I want to stay with him," Audrey sobbed.

"Audrey, no," Nathan soothed, holding her tight. "Don't put yourself through that. It won't help. It won't bring him back." He half wanted to stay himself; but he couldn't bear the thought of watching Gloria cutting his friend's body open, dissecting his organs to try to discover why he'd left them all so suddenly.

After they had all departed, Gloria and Vickie got Duke undressed, and Gloria laid her surgical tools out.

Vickie gently touched his face. He'd always been cordial to her; playfully flirting with her when she'd patronize the Gull, claiming he was going to steal her away from her fiance'.

"You don't have to stay, Vickie," Gloria told her.

"I-I'd like to," Vickie answered bravely. She frowned a bit. "It's so odd, seeing him like this."

"I know what you mean. It's always hard, seeing somebody you know or care about in here," Gloria sympathized. She'd come across Rebecca Rafferty crying her eyes out in the ladies' room earlier, and finally had to promise her that she would let her know the moment she found out anything in Duke's autopsy before she could finally get out of there.

"No, I mean it's odd, that he's—how he is," Vickie replied, her face puzzled.

"What do you mean, Vickie?"

"He's been dead around eight to ten _hours_?"

"Yes," Gloria said. "His temp indicated that he died sometime between three and five am this morning, probably just after he'd closed up shop." She peered over her glasses at her intern. "What are you driving at?"

"If it's been that long—don't you think it's odd that he's in this condition?" Vickie gestured.

Gloria took her glasses off, sighing heavily. "I still don't know what you mean, girl, and I'm just not in the mood to play Guess What I'm Thinking with you either. Out with it, Victoria."

"Well, if he's been dead for over eight hours, how come there's no lividity in his extremities?" Vickie pointed out. "And he should be going into full rigor, and he's not," she went on.

Gloria took Duke's hand in hers again, folding his fingers under easily, bending his wrist, his elbow, even lifting his arm. Vickie was right—she met with little or no resistance in his joints and muscles.

"Help me roll him over," she said, and Vickie helped her roll Duke to one side. True enough—there was no bruising anywhere on him, no indication that his blood had settled in his body.

_ That's what I couldn't put my finger on!_ Gloria thought. _He doesn't look right for a dead man!_

They laid him back down, and Gloria reached across to her table, and picking up a hypodermic needle, swiftly extracted a vial of Duke's blood.

"Set that up on a slide, quick," she told Vickie.

"What's the matter?" Vickie questioned.

"I think you're onto something here, Kitten," Gloria told her, feeling a faint spark of hope burning in her chest. "I see _someone's_ been paying attention in Forensic Studies ," she winked at Vicky, who smiled. "Let me talk to the Chief," she went on, picking up the phone. "Well, find him, this is important!"

Aboard the _Cape Rouge_, Audrey looked around what was the living room, wiping her eyes as tears steadily trickled down her face. Just last week, she and Nathan had been here with Duke, talking over dinner, listening to him trade barbs with Nathan. It just didn't seem possible that he was never going to be here anymore; never hear his 'Hi, Audrey' greeting again, never see him at the Gull tending bar, or delivering food to hungry customers.

She heard Nathan's phone ring out on deck, and him answer it. She wondered if it was Dwight, calling to tell him Gloria had finished Duke's autopsy, and a fresh rain of tears fell from her eyes.

She glanced through the doorway that led to Duke's bedroom, where she'd first woken up in bed, to find that she was naked. It had been her second day here in Haven, and she thought on that first encounter with Duke Crocker.

_"You took my clothes," she said to the man seated in a lawn chair, reading a newspaper on the deck of the Cape Rouge._

_ The paper had folded down in front of his face, and the man had grinned at her. He had messy dark hair that surrounded a uniquely charming face, and he had on his best disarming smile for her._

_ "Good morning," he greeted._

_ "You-took-my-clothes," she'd repeated._

_ "Well now, I laundered your clothes," he'd answered breezily. "And I saved your life. Kind of an odd combination, when you think about it, I mean if you think about it," he went on, pouring a cup of coffee from a French press alongside him._

_ "You must be Duke," she'd said, and his smile had told her that she was right._

"Audrey," Nathan snapped her out of her reviere. "Dwight just called. Said he got a weird call from Gloria at the morgue, something about Duke's body."

"What about his body?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"I don't know, he thinks she's snapped her tether or something," Nathan said. "She's insisting that he may not be dead."

"And he may very well not _be_ dead, Nathan. You know Haven—and Gloria does too," Audrey said, feeling her hopes rise. She hurried to the door. "Come on!"

Nathan nodded, and followed her out of the door.

Back at the morgue, Gloria was fending off the assistant coroner with a chair, keeping herself between him and the table that held Duke's body.

"Dr. Verona, I'm telling you, you're only making things worse for yourself," he said, making an attempt at civility but was failing with her. "I can be more impartial—let me perform Mr. Crocker's autopsy. I know the two of you were friends."

"And I'm telling _you_ you're not putting a hand on this man's body til I get a chance to talk to Chief Hendrickson about this," she retorted. She didn't like him; if people had thought Lucassi was a strange bird, it was only because they hadn't met Dr. Gilbert Morrow yet. He was a secretive little man, his beady brown eyes and greased-down hair only added to his furtive appearance. She liked to say he even gave the dead the creeps.

He hadn't been in Haven long; and no one seemed to know much about him, outside of that he'd had a brother that had died a couple of months or so earlier. "He was murdered by Duke Crocker," he'd claimed, but Duke had been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt to be innocent of the crime. It had finally taken Dwight having to have a talk with him and Duke making rumblings about suing Morrow for libel and slander before he'd finally shut up about it.

Morrow had come into the morgue, expecting the autopsy to be finished and Duke's body ready for the funeral home. He was actually quite put out about it when he was notified that the autopsy hadn't even been started yet, and Gloria felt suspicion raise its head in her subconscious. She couldn't help but wonder if he knew something about Duke's death that he didn't want to come out in an autopsy.

"I don't understand what the delay is," he told her. "The man is obviously dead."

"But _why_ is he dead, that's the question," Gloria retorted.

"Well, we'd know the answer to that _if_ you'd performed the autopsy already," he answered imperiously. "If you can't handle it enough to perform the autopsy because he was your friend, then allow me to do it," Dr. Morrow snapped. "I can autopsy him myself."

"Over my dead body!" Gloria said through gritted teeth. "Nobody's touching him."

"What the hell's going on in here?" Dwight said, coming through the swinging doors to the morgue.

"She's holding up Mr. Crocker's autopsy," Dr. Morrow protested. "We do have other cases to work on, and she's let her personal feelings for the decedent override her work ethic."

"You hold on just a damn minute, there, Buster!" Gloria threatened him with the chair. "You impugn my ethics one more time, and he's not gonna be the _only_ decedent in this morgue today!"

"I realize that there has been a delay in the autopsy, Dr. Morrow," Dwight answered evenly, struggling to keep the peace. "But if Gloria sees a reason to postpone it, I'm inclined to side with her decision as chief coroner."

Dr. Morrow glared at them both before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

"That guy's weird," Dwight muttered after him. "Now—why haven't you performed Duke's autopsy yet?" he questioned Gloria.

"Because I don't think he's really dead," Gloria stated.

Dwight put a hand on her shoulder. "Gloria—I know it hurts," he began gently. "I liked Duke a lot too. But I examined him myself—he was cold when I touched him, paramedics said the same thing, that he was cold like he'd been dead for hours. He had no pulse, no trace of a heartbeat, no blood pressure, nothing. He's _dead_, Gloria," Dwight went on, his hands on Gloria's arms. "I know what dead looks like." He paused. "I saw a lot of it in Afghanistan."

"I'm sure you did, Dwight," Gloria commiserated. "But this is one time that you're wrong."

"It's true," Vickie put in quickly. "I had asked her why Duke doesn't look like he's dead. This isn't-normal, for a deceased person to look this way."

"Why _doesn't_ Duke look like he's deceased?" Nathan asked from the door. "What's going on, Gloria?"

"Duke has been dead for around ten hours now," Gloria pointed out. "Look at him," she went on, lifting Duke's limp arm. "There is no rigor in his body, there's no lividity. I've examined his blood—there is no breakdown in his tissues. In other words, he's not decomposing like he should be, if he were actually deceased. _And_ I haven't put him into refrigeration yet."

"So-?" Nathan prodded.

Gloria exhaled, exasperated. "So, if Duke were dead, all those things I just described would be happening to him! Look," she said, going over to a drawer, and opening it, revealing an older man. "He came in around the same time Duke did; he's been dead about the same amount of time. You see the differences?" she explained, indicating the stiffness of the man's arm, the deep bruising on the back of his body. "And if I'd left Duke out in a warm room and he'd been dead _this_ long, well, you wouldn't want to be in this room with him from the smell. And he doesn't smell of decomp. He smells like that soap he uses."

Nathan, Audrey and Dwight examined the dead man in the drawer, and they could see that this man did look markedly different than Duke.

"Also, if he were dead, without being embalmed or placed in refrigeration by this time, Duke's fingers and toes would have turned blue, he'd be gray, his eyes would be sunken and cloudy, and his skin would look waxen at this stage. Well, they're not blue, his eyes are firm and clear, and he's not gray or waxy. So unless this miraculous incorruptibility means he's a candidate for sainthood, which, given we're talking about _Duke Crocker_ here, I seriously _doubt_," she cracked, getting the faint ghost of a smile from Nathan. "I don't think he's actually dead."

"Then what is this?" Dwight asked. "Is he in some type of a deep coma?"

"I think he's in a kind of-suspended animation," Gloria said. "I think somebody who's Troubled did this to him."

"You think this is a Trouble?" Audrey asked, touching Duke protectively. "But why would they do this to him? For what reason?"

"Someone with an axe to grind," Dwight commented. "To make everyone think he's dead. If Gloria had done the autopsy already-"

"Then he would have been dead for real," Nathan finished. "Duke had no shortage of enemies, in Haven or otherwise. It could be someone with a Trouble bent on taking revenge."

"Then we need to find out who's responsible, and make them fix it," Audrey stated.

"Where do you suggest we start?"

"He was found at the Gull, right?" she asked Dwight.

"Yeah. I'll pull all the Gull's surveillance footage," Dwight answered, and went out to see about it.

"Do you think he's—aware?" Nathan questioned Gloria. "Does Duke know what's happening to him?"

"I don't know, Nathan. Maybe, maybe not," Gloria said. "But either way, nobody's touching him or taking him out of here till we get this resolved one way or another, and that includes _Doctor_ _Frankenstein_ out there!" she yelled at the door, back to her feisty self once more.

Nathan and Audrey felt hopeful for the first time since they'd found out that Duke had died.

Audrey bent down to him, and kissed his forehead.

"We're going to fix this. I promise," she told him. "You look out for him, Gloria."

"I will, kid. Now get going," Gloria ordered, and Audrey wasted no time in obeying her order.

Nathan and Audrey went to the harbor, and Dwight departed for The Grey Gull, each party in search of any hint on the video cameras of anyone who might have wished to hurt Duke, or had paid him a visit in recent days.

The harbor videos showed only the comings and goings of various harbor employees, ship owners and crew, and Nathan had even spotted Duke on there, coming and going as he would leave and arrive home.

"There's us, going for his spaghetti dinner last week," Audrey smiled, pointing to the video clip of she and Nathan going on board the _Cape Rouge_.

"Hopefully, we'll be having those dinners with him again soon," Nathan replied, and squeezed her hand affectionately. "Hey, look, there's Dr. Morrow," he motioned to his monitor. "What's he doing down there?"

"Maybe he likes ships," Audrey said.

"No, Stan said once he looks seasick just watching kids sail toy boats at the park," Nathan said, his brow furrowed. "So what's he doing down at the harbor?"

"Better yet, what is he doing watching the _Rouge_?" Audrey asked. She knew that corner well—it was the corner where Agent Howard and the Chief had their tete-a-tete after she, Agent Howard, Duke and Julia Carr had been abducted on board the _Cape Rouge_. And from that particular corner, one was afforded an excellent view of Duke's boat.

It took a few hours to go through about two weeks' worth of video, but on five separate occasions, they saw Dr. Morrow at the harbor in the same spot, watching the _Cape Rouge_.

Nathan's phone rang.

"It's Dwight," he said. "Yeah, Dwight?"

"You guys getting anywhere?" the police chief asked.

"Yes, actually," Nathan answered. "Apparently, Dr. Morrow's been to the harbor. He's been watching Duke's boat for some reason."

"That's interesting that you'd say that," Dwight replied. "Because he's also been to the Gull every day for the last week."

"I think it's time we had a talk with Dr. Morrow," Audrey stated. "And find out why he's been stalking Duke."

"And why he's so anxious to get him buried," Nathan said.

Gloria was alone in the morgue with Duke. She had him covered in sheets, laid out on a stretcher not too far from her desk.

She laid her pen down, and walked over to him. She put her hand on his cheek, and then checked his eyes. He was almost icy to the touch, no pulse beat in his veins, no breath stirred in his lungs. And yet his skin remained supple, his limbs malleable. His eyes were still clear, although he had no pupillary reaction.

"I don't know if you can hear me in there, honey," she told him. "But if you can, you owe Vickie dinner on you. Otherwise, you'd be in old Doctor Creepy's hands right about now." She looked teary a moment. "Hell, you could have been in _mine_," she said softly. "I'd have opened you up and pulled everything out and never know I'd killed you doing it."

With her back to the door, Gloria didn't notice that it was silently opening, or the figure slipping stealthily toward her.

Gloria went to tuck the sheet around Duke's face again, and was violently grabbed from behind. She struggled against her attacker, but the chloroform-soaked gauze in her face was overpowering, and she soon sank to the floor unconscious.

The figure let her slide on down, and then stepping over her, rolled the stretcher with Duke on it out the door, and into a waiting hearse before driving away.

Nathan and Audrey passed the hearse on the way out of the parking lot.

"They must have been here for the guy Gloria showed us earlier," Nathan said, and pulled into the parking lot.

He swiped his badge, and let he and Audrey into the morgue, where they found Gloria slumped in the floor, and Duke's stretcher gone. Nathan took three strides and was by Gloria's side.

"Gloria! Gloria, wake up," Nathan said, pulling her upright, patting her face gently. "Gloria, where's Duke?"

"Nathan, that hearse," Audrey said, wild-eyed, and hit the alarm button, the shrieking buzzer bringing a half-dozen of Haven's finest on the run, including Dwight, who'd only just returned.

"I want an APB on a black hearse, I want every hearse in a 20 mile radius stopped, I don't care if it's in a funeral procession," Nathan ordered. "And all the funeral homes in the area checked as well."

"What're we looking for?" Stan asked.

"We're looking for Duke Crocker's body. You all know what he looks like," Nathan said, relieved that Gloria seemed to be coming around.

"Somebody's taken his body from the morgue illegally, I want him found, now, _yesterday_," Dwight ordered, and cops scrambled through the doors, heading out to assorted vehicles.

"Wha-where is he?" Gloria mumbled, and then looked dismayed when she realized the stretcher was gone. "I'm sorry, Nathan, they got the drop on me," she said woozily.

"It's okay, Gloria. We'll get him back. Did you see the guy?" Nathan asked, and Gloria shook her head.

"No, I didn't see his face. But I can tell you this much—the guy had that tattoo on him," she pointed to his arm.

"Dwight-" Nathan began to say, but Dwight already had his phone out.

"I'm on it," he answered.

"A lot of the Guard would like nothing better than to see Duke dead," Audrey said, helping Nathan get Gloria on her feet. "But who has a Trouble that can do what it did to him?"

Nathan looked around. "Where's Dr. Morrow?" he questioned. "Anyone seen him this afternoon?"

I did," Rafferty said. "He said he had something important to do this afternoon, that he was going to be out of pocket."

Suddenly, all the pieces fit into place for Nathan. It was _Morrow_ who'd done this to Duke; and now mostly likely had taken him for God knew what purpose.

"Did he say where he was going?" he asked Rafferty.

"Something about his brother's place."

"Find it," Nathan said. "Now!"

Gilbert Morrow wheeled the hearse down the secluded road before turning in to a house set into a little copse of trees. Only it wasn't a house; it was Elysian Fields Funeral Home , his family's former business.

He whistled as he parked the hearse, then walked around to the back, extracting the stretcher with Duke's body on it. He raised it to its full height, and proceeded to roll the stretcher up a little ramp and into the funeral home.

That old witch had figured out that Crocker wasn't actually dead, just in a state of suspended animation. But he'd dealt with her, and now he had Duke. It had surprised Morrow how easily he'd taken him down this morning; he'd walked up behind him, touched him, and Crocker had dropped like a stone. But that was how it was with most people-they presumed he was just a mousy, weird little man-until it was too late. They didn't know the kind of power that lurked in his hands. _Crocker should have done his homework better before he murdered Calvin_, Morrow thought. _I'm the oldest in my family. If he wanted to kill our family's curse, he should have killed me, not my baby brother._

It was a Trouble that had been in his family for generations. His ancestors had often worked as assassins, 'killing' their victims, and then letting their families bury them before they regained consciousness, only to awaken in the grave. He could imagine no worse fate, screaming to be let out, with no one to hear you as you slowly suffocated in a box buried six feet underground, or sealed in a tomb. They'd termed it The Sleeping Death-once touched, the victim's heart and respiratory functions ceased, their pupils fixed and dilated, and their body would become cold almost immediately, giving the impression that they'd been dead for hours, usually putting a stop to any attempt to revive them.

But with the advent of embalming techniques, they hadn't had much use for their Trouble—until the family had gone into the mortuary business, setting up arrangements with rich families who wanted Granddad out of the way for the money. One touch from them, and the old buzzard would be dead, first for the authorities who would presume that they had died of heart failure, not from the autopsies performed on them, after which they were dead for real. Until Martin Alsbury had revived on the embalming table, screaming his last as the machine pulled the blood out of him while pumping in embalming fluid simultaneously. His father had tried to stop it, but Alsbury had died all over again in front of his horrified family, one of whom was on the city council. The scandal had ruined their family business, and they'd moved away from Haven. He wouldn't have come back here at all; but Calvin had wanted to start working in the family business again. And it had gotten him killed by the man on the table in front of him.

He looked down at Duke. _You don't look so high and mighty now, do you, Crocker_, he thought. The Death Touch usually lasted anywhere from ten to twenty-four hours, dependent on how long the person was touched. Dr. Morrow had practiced for years, and had it down to a science. He estimated that Duke's 'death' would last approximately fourteen hours-more than enough time for him to have been autopsied and embalmed to make his death a permanent situation. But Gloria had stopped the autopsy. Well, it wasn't important now. He had him here at his family's mortuary, and that was all that was going to matter in the end. Even if they caught up with him, it would still be too late for Duke Crocker.

"You should have been dead already," he told him. "But not to worry," he reassured him. "I'm sure I can remedy that."

Most of Haven PD was out pounding the beat, searching funeral homes, stopping hearses, but all were coming up empty.

"He could be anywhere," Audrey said. She now had no doubt in her mind that Dr. Morrow had been the one to steal Duke's body. _Or rather, he kidnapped Duke_, she reminded herself. _He's not dead. Not yet, anyway_.

Vince and Dave arrived at Dwight's office, willing to help in the search for Duke.

"Vince, you know of anybody who's got that bad a grudge against Duke that might be or has been involved in the Guard in the past with a Death Touch Trouble?" Nathan asked without preamble.

"A lot of the Guard aren't happy about Duke's Trouble," Vince said cagily. "But I've heard nothing of anyone with a Trouble like that."

"Was Dr. Morrow in the Guard?" Audrey asked.

"No, he wasn't," Vince replied.

"No, but his brother was," Dwight said. "Calvin Morrow, he was the man murdered two months ago. Nobody ever knew what Morrow's Trouble was, he didn't like to talk about it. I guess it was this."

"How was he killed?" Audrey asked.

"He was stabbed once through the heart," Dwight answered. "You remember it, Nate, because we had to question Duke about it, because Morrow was making such a stink about it."

"What?" Audrey gasped. "Why did Dr. Morrow think that Duke was responsible?"

"One of the witnesses said a man matching Duke's description was in the area," Nathan told her. "But it wasn't Duke, because he was with you on that Trouble at the exact same time as the murder, so we cleared him."

"Sounds like someone didn't agree with your decision," Audrey said. "So what did the brother do for a living?"

"He was a mortician, worked at Adderly Brothers Mortuary," Nathan said. "We've checked there already. Morrow's not there, neither is Duke."

"But the family had a mortuary business of their own at one time," Vince said. "Remember, they did Aunt Hattie?" he asked Dave.

"Oh, yeah, Elysian Fields. I remember them over-rogueing her, because Uncle Dan threw a fit about it," Dave replied. "He said if she'd been able to see how much makeup they had caked on her face, she would have dropped dead all over again."

"Guys? You said it was Called Elysian Fields," Audrey broke in. "I don't remember any place like that around here. Where is it? Or where was it?"

"Out on Montebanc Road. After a scandal came out, their trade dropped off to nothing," Vince recalled.

"Something about someone reviving in the embalming room, right as they were being embalmed," Dave added.

"What happened?" Audrey questioned.

"Well, he died—again."

Nathan, Dwight and Audrey all grabbed coats and guns and headed for the door. Audrey could only pray they weren't too late.

"There you are," Morrow told Duke as he carefully straightened his tie. He'd attired Duke in a black suit and crisp white shirt. He finished knotting a rather gaudy yellow and orange tie, and placed it into Duke's jacket. He carefully tucked a handkerchief into the breast pocket, and checked that he hadn't missed any details. He would have embalmed him; but he hadn't counted on Nathan and Audrey's returning to the morgue so soon, and so he'd had to speed things along. Crocker would have to go to the Great Hereafter as he was.

"Want you to look your best," he murmured. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and get Gertrude all warmed up for you."

He whistled as he turned the gas lever and lit the pilot, the crematorium roaring to life. He glanced at the wall clock. Crocker would re-awaken in less than an hour, and Morrow wanted to be sure that when he did, it was going to be with a reminder of what was awaiting him in his afterlife for killing Calvin.

Nathan was driving at over 80 miles an hour, the highway guard rail zipping by them, his red siren light flashing on the dashboard.

"The turnoff's up there—slow down, Nathan, we can't save him if we're dead too," Audrey warned, and Nathan slowed enough to make the turn, the tires squealing on the asphalt, flinging gravel everywhere as they made the turn onto Montebanc Road, two squad cars trailing behind them.

Morrow heard the distant wail of police sirens, and he closed the casket lid, rolling it over to the conveyor belt that led into the crematorium.

"This is for Calvin," he said to the casket. "So roast in Hell, Crocker!" he finished, and shoved it forward.

Nathan had barely brought the Bronco to a stop before he was out of the door, his gun drawn, Dwight right behind him.

He took in the smoke coming from the crematorium's chimney behind the house, and horror gripped his insides as he kicked at the front door.

"_Haven PD, come out with your hands up_!" he bellowed, smashing in the front door. He knew he'd probably injured himself, but he couldn't feel it, limping through the funeral parlor, sweeping room by room as he headed for the back.

He kicked open the doors to find Morrow attempting to close the doors to the crematorium. Nathan could see the casket inside, the flames blistering the black paint, beginning to consume the wood.

"On the ground, NOW!" Dwight barked at him, and the little man hit the floor.

"That's Crocker's payment for Calvin!" he laughed. "You're too late."

Audrey and Nathan raced forward, the heat from the crematorium too intense for Audrey.

"_Nathan, save him_!" she screamed.

Nathan reached inside, grabbing hold of the red-hot handle of the casket, and somehow managed to drag it out of the inferno, the smoldering, flaming wood ablaze.

Dwight finished handcuffing Morrow, and helped Nathan beat the flames out while Audrey found a fire extinguisher, spraying it and Nathan's hands down. She knew he had some bad burns, but was grateful for once that he couldn't feel them.

Dwight procured his knife, and they pried the lid open, tearing it off, and tossing it to one side.

Nathan reached in, extracting their friend's body, Dwight helping him to put him on the floor. Duke's jacket was smoking slightly, but otherwise, he appeared to be unharmed by the fire.

Nathan put his fingers against his neck, and put his ear down to his nose and mouth. Duke was not breathing, and gave no indication of life.

"Duke," Nathan said softly. "Come on, Duke, you can do it."

Audrey pointed her pistol at Morrow.

"Fix him," she ordered.

"Or what?" the little man snapped.

For answer, Audrey fired a shot that came right at Morrow's head before it veered off and hit Dwight in his flak vest, both he and the doctor flinching.

"Or we can stick _you_ in that box and let the fire finish the job," she growled. "Now fix him!"

"Parker, stand down!" Dwight warned, wincing in pain.

"He'll wake up," the doctor said weakly. "Unless he already did and died of smoke inhalation."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nathan and Dwight examining Duke's nose and mouth for traces of soot, and saw Nathan shake his head.

"Duke _didn't_ kill your brother," Audrey told him. "He was with me at the time of his murder."

"Oh, sure, that's what you _all_ say," the doctor retorted. "You all _cover_ for him, you all _lie_ for him, but _everyone_ in this town knows he's a killer!" he raged. "He murdered Calvin, to stop his Trouble."

"Then why is _yours_ still active?" Audrey asked him. "If it was Duke that had killed your brother, your Trouble wouldn't work anymore. When a Crocker kills a Troubled person, the curse dies out in the whole family."

"Only if it's the _oldest_ member of the family, I heard," Morrow shot back. "_I'm_ the oldest."

"It doesn't matter who it is in a Troubled person's family they kill. They die by a Crocker's hand, the curse dies out in the whole family. That's how it works," Nathan said. "That's how it's always worked since the Troubles began. It doesn't _have_ to be the oldest person in a family, it just usually is."

"Y-You're sure about that?" Morrow questioned. Dwight and Nathan both nodded.

"Very sure," Dwight replied. "Duke did not kill your brother. If he had, you wouldn't be Troubled anymore." It wasn't public knowledge that Duke had lost his own Trouble when he'd released all the ones the Crocker line had extinguished through the centuries, and they'd worked hard to keep it that way. It was the only way they had been able to think of to keep him from being killed because he'd released so many Troubles.

"So who killed Calvin? They said it looked just like Crocker," Morrow protested. "Mick Ellsbright said it was him, said that he tried to _disguise_ himself with some phony Irish accent."

"Irish accent?" Audrey gasped.

"Mick said it looked enough like Crocker to be his twin brother," the doctor went on. "Except he had one of those 'Top-O'-The-Mornin'-To-Ye' type of accents," Morrow singsonged in an Irish accent. "So if it _wasn't_ Crocker—then I killed an innocent man," he went on, and began to cry. "Oh, God—I've violated the most cardinal rule of the Hippocratic Oath," he wailed over and over.

Nathan wanted to punch Morrow in the face, just to shut him up.

Duke still hadn't moved, or shown any sign that he was going to wake up, and Nathan felt the sting of tears at the back of his throat that Duke might have actually revived in the casket, only to be suffocated from the heat or smoke.

Audrey knelt down alongside Nathan, and put her hand on Duke's chest, his other hand in hers, her own eyes full.

"Duke," she said softly. "Come back to us."

Suddenly, Duke drew a deep breath, and his color flushed.

"Did you do that?" Nathan asked her. Audrey shook her head.

"No-he did. He's waking up," she said softly. She was crying again; but this time they were happy tears.

Duke's eyes flew open. He looked around, startled, and then up at Nathan and Audrey, who were both crying, but smiling through their tears.

"Where is he?" he blurted out. "The guy, that guy with the tattoo!" He struggled to sit up, groaning, stiff from being motionless for over twelve hours. He looked down at himself, and then at Nathan and Audrey.

"Somebody want to let me in on what the hell's going on and why I'm dressed like a traveling preacher?" he demanded.

"The tattoo guy's in custody," Nathan assured him. "And you, well—you're back from the dead."

"Dead?" Duke choked, surprised. "Well, I guess that explains why I'm wearing the monkey suit." He took in the room, the scorched casket, the crematorium. "You were having me _cremated_?" he asked.

"No, _he_ was," Nathan said. "But we got to you in time."

Duke got up, Nathan helping him to his feet, and Duke recoiled at the sight of Nathan's hands.

"Jeez, Nathan, your hands," Duke said. He fished out his handkerchief, and bound up the worse of the two, their bloody blisters making Nathan's hands swell up like catchers' mitts. "What'd you do to yourself, Nate?" Duke questioned.

"Pulled your coffin out of there," Nathan gestured at the roaring crematorium.

Duke stopped wrapping Nathan's hands, and looked at him. Nathan was suddenly so glad that Duke was standing there, alive, talking to him again, he thought for a moment he might cry; and he realized that Duke looked the same.

"Thank you, Nathan," Duke said quietly.

Nathan nodded, and then grinned slightly. "Shut up, Duke."

"Shut up, Duke," Duke muttered, finishing his first aid on Nathan's hands. "Then that's the last time I try to say thank you for pulling me out of a burning coffin, Nathan."

Dwight got Morrow to his feet, who looked at Duke, shaking his head over and over. Dwight had a feeling that Gilbert Morrow had just boarded the last bus from Realityville and wasn't planning on coming back.

"But he looked so much like _you_," he kept mumbling over and over. "He looked _just_ like you," he kept rambling as Dwight led him out to two other officers, with instructions to take him to the Freddy for psychiatric evaluation.

"_That's_ the guy I've been afraid of for the last three years?" Duke asked, thunderstruck. "The tattooed man who was supposed to kill me?"

"Well, he _did_ kill you, technically," Audrey pointed out. "So I guess Vanessa's prediction came true, after a fashion."

Duke exhaled, looking down at himself, and at his surroundings.

"But not quite like I figured. I didn't _stay_ dead."

"No, you didn't, and I'm glad," Audrey answered, and hugged him tightly, Duke returning her gesture of affection.

"But...what was he talking about, he looked like me?" Duke asked Dwight.

"He said he thought that you'd killed Calvin Morrow. I guess he got the tattoo because his brother had one too."

"But I _didn't _kill Morrow!" Duke protested. "I was with Audrey!"

"I know that, and you know that, but Dr. Morrow was convinced it was you," Dwight told him. "He says the witness described you almost to a T, save that you had an Irish accent."

"An Irish accent?" Duke asked, his eyes narrowing. "And the guy supposedly looked like me?"

"That's what the witness described."

"Mm," Duke answered absently.

"Duke? Do you know something about that?" Audrey questioned.

"Audrey, there's only one other guy in the world who looks like me and has an Irish accent."

"Garrett Crocker," Nathan said.

Duke nodded. "Garrett Crocker. So it begs the question: what is Garrett doing here in Haven? Or what was he doing here in Haven?"

"You haven't seen him?" Dwight asked.

Duke shook his head. "No. And I don't want to. Garrett—Garrett's not a nice guy like me," he explained to Audrey. "He's a criminal with a heart of lead and a mean streak a mile wide."

"Does he know about your family's-" Dwight prodded.

"That we're Trouble-killers? I doubt it," Duke replied. "If he'd killed Calvin Morrow, then Dr. Morrow's Trouble wouldn't have worked on me, if Garrett was Troubled too." He looked a little sad. "Besides, since I lost my Trouble, I'm not Troubled either. And we still don't know who ended up with it."

"Not yet, anyway," Dwight said grimly. "But sooner or later, we're going to find it out the hard way."

A little later, they were gathered at the Gull, Duke, Audrey, Dwight and Gloria, and Vicky for a small Welcome-Back-To-Life-Duke party. Nathan had been admitted to the hospital with his burns, but he was expected to make a full recovery.

"So how do we explain your miraculous return to life?" Dwight said, gesturing at Duke. "Pretty much all of Haven knows you were dead."

"I'm a zombie," Duke groaned, imitating one. "They're coming to get you, Auuu-dreee," he moaned, rolling his eyes back in his head, arms outstretched.

"Stop that," Audrey grinned.

"There's always our old standby-gas leak," Dwight threw out.

"You know, Vince and Dave _really_ need to come up with some new material. Haven should have blown up five times over by now from all the damn 'gas leaks," Gloria said, now on her third Scotch, and Duke nodded emphatically.

"I could say I fell and hit my head and went into a coma," Duke suggested.

"For fourteen hours, and then woke up and you were fine," Audrey said dubiously, draining her martini. "C'mon Duke, nobody in Haven's _that_ gullible."

"You could say you had sleeping sickness," Vicky piped up, working on her steak dinner. "Got it from an infected mosquito."

Everyone stopped and looked at her, impressed, and Duke nodded agreement.

"I like it," Duke said. "It sounds mysterious and plausible all at the same time. To sleeping sickness," he toasted, raising his glass, and everyone joined in.

"To sleeping sickness," they chorused, laughing.

"And to Duke," Audrey smiled. "We're glad you're still here." Duke smiled, and lowered his eyes.

"Me too," he said simply. "Me too."

On a rundown side of Haven, a man in a heavy leather coat knocked at a door.

A man inside the house opened the door slowly, revolver cocked in his hand, his face full of a mix of hatred and mistrust.

The man in the coat looked puzzled at him for a moment. Understanding dawned in his face, and he gave the man a sardonic smile.

"I'm not the Crocker yer lookin' fer, mate," Garrett Crocker spoke. "Now lemme in."

The man stepped aside, and Garrett made his way through the house, seeing the suspicious faces staring at him from the shadows.

He glanced at the mirror in the mantle. He could see why these people disliked him on sight; he heavily favored his younger brother Duke, almost enough to be his twin, with the exception that his hair was longer, with a thick gray streak that ran though the crown of his head.

"Baby brother must've ticked off a helluva lotta people from the looks of ye," he remarked to the man sitting at the table. "I expected ta hear from ye sooner after that killin'," he continued. "Did ye find what I was lookin' fer?"

"I believe we have located him," a man in the shadows spoke, indicating a man tied in a chair by the fireplace. There was another man, seated at the head of a table. Garrett couldn't make him out, but something about him seemed vaguely familiar. He shrugged it off, and crossed over to the man in the chair by the fireplace slowly.

"Wh-whaddya want with me?" the man asked timorously. He was middle-aged, slightly overweight, with sad eyes that looked up at Garrett, hoping for sympathy, but finding none.

"Ye've got somethin' that belongs ta me and mine," Garrett told him, procuring a knife. "I'm afraid I'm goin' ta have ta ask ye to give it back, old son."

"I-I don't have anything of yours! I don't even _know_ you!" the man blurted out.

"Yer sure he's the right man this time?" Garrett asked the man in the shadows.

"Quite sure," came the reply. "Show him, Henry."

Another man stepped forward, and made a small cut on his thumb on Garrett's knife, the blood welling to the surface. He then wiped the blood on the back of the tied man's hand.

Almost instantly, the man's eyes lightened to a silvery color, and he strained mightily against the ropes that held him, his body shaking from the effort, the chair groaning under the pressure being applied to it. The silver faded, and the man gasped, slumping in the chair. He looked up at Garrett.

"That's the one," Garrett said softly, taking a firmer grip on his knife. "I'm afraid that it doesn't look too good for you, old son."

It was over in an instant; and as the man's dying heart pumped its last beats, Garrett slashed his own palm, soaking his hand in the crimson stream from the man's chest. He felt his heart speed up, felt the high of the blood as he watched his brown eyes turn to silver in the mirror over the mantle as the Crocker curse returned to its rightful family.

The high faded, too soon for Garrett's liking, but he understood that it was only the first of what was sure to be many.

"Now then," said the man at the table, rising from his chair and walking over by the fireplace, his priest's collar visible in the light. "We can get down to business, Mr. Crocker."

"As I told ye, Reverend," Garrett said. "If'n ye had dealt with me instead of Duke in the first place, ye wouldn'ta had ta die by her hand. She'da died by mine."

"That was a mistake on my part, I admit, trusting that your brother would listen to reason. And I was dead, true enough," Edmund Driscoll intoned. "But Noah found the cure for that," he nodded to a frightened-looking little girl, who looked to be no more than ten or eleven.

"So she really can raise the dead?" Garrett asked, helping himself to a whiskey and pouring two glasses. "Then ye might consider revivin' me an' Duke's old Da then."

"Her brother brought me back. It cost him his own life to do it, but I will see to it that his sacrifice was not made in vain," Driscoll said. "And I think two Crockers at this juncture is enough for Haven. You bring your brother into the fold—and I'll consider it."

"And if I can't?"

"Then you do what needs doing. Haven is long overdue for a reckoning," Driscoll said, his voice sonorous in the room. "And it's starting right here, tonight, in this room."

"Amen, Reverend," said a voice from the shadows.

Driscoll looked to Garrett, and the two clinked whiskey glasses together.

"To new beginnings," he grated.

"To new beginnings," Garrett repeated. "For all of us."

**I will continue later on with my little tale, just as soon as I can think of where to go from here. Please leave reviews if you liked it! (Or even if you didn't) ;-)**


	2. The New Kid In Town

**2**

**The New Kid In Town**

The next day, Nathan looked up from his hospital bed to see Audrey and Duke, laden down with takeout boxes. He'd sustained severe second, almost third degree burns, wrangling Duke's flaming casket from the crematorium, but they would heal, eventually.

"What's all this?" Nathan asked.

"The cuisine at the hospital can't compare with Maddie's cooking at the Gull," Duke told him, pulling Nathan's hospital tray over to the bed as Audrey bestowed a gentle kiss to Nathan's face.

"How are you feeling, Duke?" Nathan asked.

"_He's_ in the hospital, and he's asking me how _I_ feel," Duke told Audrey.

"He's just concerned about you. He's considerate like that," she replied. "You were _dead_ yesterday, you know."

"Don't remind me," Duke shuddered. "In answer to your question, Nathan, I feel fine, thank you. How about you? I would say are you in pain, but it'd be kinda stupid, considering you don't feel. But, I'll be polite: how are you feeling, Nathan?"

Nathan held up his bandaged hands. "Like a helpless invalid. I can't even feed myself right now. But the good news is, I get to go home today."

"Great," Duke answered absently, as though his mind were somewhere else. "Well, I'm going to let Audrey handle feeding and dressing duties," he went on. "And I'm going to make myself scarce, I'm just the delivery guy with the food, so I'm gonna take off. I'll be back later."

"Don't rush back on my account," Nathan shot back. Duke made a vaguely rude gesture at him, and closed the door noisily behind him.

"You two," Audrey smiled. "You might actually be best friends if you'd ever stop picking on each other."

"That's nothing compared to what he's done to me through the years," Nathan shot back. "What's his problem today?"

"I think he's worried about his brother," Audrey said. "I'm sure he doesn't want a repeat of what happened with Wade."

"I guess not," Nathan admitted. "That had to have hurt-he killed his own brother. But Duke could still be less of an ass."

"And you do him the same way at times," Audrey pointed out. "Why do men do that? Women don't do each other like guys do."

"Well, it's different, friendships between men than friendships between women," Nathan said. "We generally don't hang out gossiping and go shopping. Or do things that involve talking about our feelings."

"If you say so, Cave-Man," Audrey said wryly. She stuck a straw in the soda, offering it to Nathan, who sipped from it, his eyes on hers.

"How_ are_ you feeling?" she asked tenderly.

"Better—now that you're here," he answered. "Is he—really-all right?" he questioned. "You know how Duke is, he'll be all 'I'm fine' but he won't be fine at all."

"You need to stop worrying about Duke, and worry about you," Audrey told him. "Duke is fine, no worse for wear. Says the last thing he remembers is Morrow grabbing his face and then he was with us at the funeral home, everything in between is just a blank."

"I'm glad," Nathan said in his slow Mainer way of speaking. "I remember how awful it was to be aware and unable to tell anyone I was still alive when I got affected by that Ghost Trouble," he went on. "I can't imagine how awful it would have been to hear everyone believing I was dead, knowing I was almost autopsied—or about to be burned alive, and couldn't let anyone know I wasn't dead."

"It was pretty awful doing without you, you know," Audrey admitted. "Duke helped save you then. And then Duke wasn't hurt, because you saved him. Because that's what _friends_ do for each other," Audrey replied gently, kissing him again. "Now," she went on, taking the lids off the takeout containers. "There's clam chowder, or chicken noodle soup. I like both, which would you like?"

"The chicken noodle," Nathan grinned shyly.

Audrey ladled a healthy spoonful of the delicious-smelling soup and Nathan opened his mouth, savoring the taste of it. Duke was right; Maddie was an outstanding cook.

"I hope Duke's paying her well," Nathan mumbled. "That is really good."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Audrey lectured.

"Yes, Mom," Nathan responded, grinning.

A knock, and Dwight popped in.

"Hey Nate, how's the hands?" he asked.

"Doc says I can start using them again in a few days," Nathan answered. "Right now, I got a pretty nurse helping me out," he smiled at Audrey. "Soon as lunch is finished, we're heading home."

"Well, I might have to take your nurse away from you," Dwight said. "We got a case—another man turned up dead. He was stabbed the same way Calvin Morrow was—one shot, right through the heart."

"Think it's a coincidence?" Nathan questioned.

Dwight shook his head. "That's the mark of a professional to make a clean stab like that. I'm willing to bet it's the same guy that killed Morrow."

"Have you heard from Interpol about Garrett Crocker?" Audrey said.

"Yeah, I have," Dwight answered. "Duke wasn't kidding about him—Garrett's got a longer record than he does, and by all accounts, is not a guy to dealt with lightly. He also hasn't been seen in Ireland in about two months either. His last known destination was to New York, and then he just disappeared off the planet."

"So he could be here in Haven, or was," Audrey said.

"Yeah. I got his info here," Dwight told them, showing them the flyer that had come through from Interpol.

"He _does_ look a lot like Duke," Nathan said, looking at the picture of the man on the paper. "Easy to see why the witness said it looked like him."

"You ever meet him?"

Nathan shook his head. "No. I think he came here to Haven once before, but I was away at college. Heard about it from the Chief, though," he went on. "He got into a big fight at the Shaven Mane—he put two guys who tried to hustle him at a game of pool in the hospital. Chief put him on a plane for Ireland the next day, told him he'd better stay there."

He thought a moment. "Chief said he'd sooner have Duke underfoot than Garrett—because Duke was the lesser of two evils."

"I haven't even met Garrett Crocker and he's already worn out his welcome with me," Dwight remarked.

Duke exited the hospital, and made his way over to his truck.

"Hello, little brother," he heard behind him, and he froze for a moment, before turning around.

Garrett was standing behind him, leaning on the minivan his truck was parked next to.

It never failed to shock Duke how much they resembled one another, even with different mothers. Garrett had gotten grayer than he had over the years, but other than their hair and clothes, they were almost as alike as two peas in a pod.

Garrett glanced him over. "Well now, Duke, yer lookin' pretty healthy fer a dead man, I must say."

"Like the man said, the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Duke answered. "And how did _you_ hear about it anyway? Nobody had a chance to notify you."

"I happened ta be in the area," Garrett replied, grinning. "I can't come and see ma kid brother?"

"After twelve years," Duke said dubiously. "You just _happened_ to decide to come for a visit on the same day I drop dead?"

"So ye _did_ die," Garrett commented. "What was that like? Choirs of angels singin' ye ta yer rest? Or given our family, didja have a pack a' devils pokin' ye in yer arse with pitchforks?" he grinned. "I'm curious ta know what ta expect when I pop off."

"I couldn't tell you," Duke said. "But being you, Garrett, I'd expect the latter," he cracked, getting a grin from Garrett. Duke sobered. "Why are you here?"

Garrett frowned at Duke's response. His expression looked like someone who was hurt by an accusation, but Duke knew his older brother better than that. He was about as trustworthy as Mara was—or had been, anyway. Duke wouldn't believe Garrett if he said water was wet without checking it out for himself first.

"I only came ta see that ye were all right," Garrett said sincerely. "We don't got anybody else in the world ta wonder whether or not we're alive or dead. An' speakin' a' dead," he went on, gauging his younger brother. "I was sorry ta hear of yer missus passin' away. Never did get ta meet her."

"Thanks. Well, it's not like Evie and I were together for very long," Duke said softly. "We'd thought of patching it up—but she died."

"I've had one or two a' those marriage things meself," Garrett grinned. "Must be a family trait, the inability ta stay married. Still, sorry ta hear it. I also wanted ta ask ye—have ye heard from Wade? No one's seen him fer months. I was in New York a month or so ago. Went by ta see him, an' his missus said he came here ta look after yer place fer awhile, an' never came back."

"No, I haven't," Duke replied, keeping his voice calm. "I know they were getting divorced. He came down here for a while, but he left."

"She thinks he mighta done somethin' ta himself."

"Wade was depressed—maybe he did."

"So he _was_ here. Came in ta fill in fer yer place, because you'd been alleged ta be dead_ then_ too," Garrett observed. "Ye got more lives than a cat, Duke Crocker."

"It was a mistake then, I'd been—out of town," Duke said. "And yes, he was here, briefly. I came home one day not too long after I'd gotten back, and he was—gone. Haven't seen hide or hair of him since."

Garrett's casual manner dropped, and he moved closer to Duke, who tensed his body, ready for whatever Garrett was going to do.

"Now I know yer lyin' ta me," he said. "I heard that he's dead, because a' his addiction ta our little—_family_ problem," he told Duke, his voice almost a whisper. "I _understand_, Duke—I've experienced it meself, it'd be very easy ta lose yaself ta it, ta that blood high. But not you an' I," he finished. "Wade was never a strong man-he wasn' like you an' me an' Da. He wasn' made ta be a fighter."

"_Da_ wasn't a strong man either when it came to the blood high," Duke replied, his heart pounding like a triphammer. So Garrett _was_ Troubled too. "Killing innocent people was never my bag."

"Hm," Garrett answered absently. "An' don't speak ill of the dead, Duke. At any rate, I knew ye got things ta do," Garrett continued, his tone light again. "Glad ta see yer still with us in the world," he said, clapping Duke on the shoulder. "I know yer a busy man nowadays what with a restaurant an' all ta run. I'll come by an' see ye again. I'm goin' ta be around fa a while-I'm stayin' up at Gran's old place," he said meaningfully. "Come by an' we'll get a chance ta finally catch up with one another. Ta-ta," he finished, and walked away, leaving Duke staring after him in shock.

Duke's emotions were a mix of disbelief and horror. Garrett was _Troubled_. Garrett _knew_ about their Trouble. Duke could only guess at what _else_ Garrett knew.


	3. Blast From The Past

**3**

**Blast From The Past**

_Nathan sees a spectre from the past, while Duke searches for answers as to why Garrett's in Haven...and gets more than he bargained for_

Nathan was being released from the hospital later that day, and Audrey was finishing helping him get dressed.

"And you're to take it easy while I'm at work," she was telling him. "Just because you can't feel doesn't mean you're not still hurt," he chorused along with her.

"I know. I promise I'll be good," Nathan answered, smiling, as the nurse pushed him in the wheelchair to the doorway, where Audrey's sedan was waiting.

"Okay. I'm going to go back for the rest of your stuff, so you just sit tight in the car, okay?" she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before closing the car door.

Nathan smiled after her, looking across the parking lot, watching the people coming and going in and out of the hospital.

But one man caught his attention. He seemed familiar from behind as Nathan watched him climb out of the car with the selectman.

The man turned around, and Nathan realized with a horrifying start who the man was.

It was Edmund Driscoll.

Nathan fumbled around, trying to get his phone out of his pocket, but he was unable to extract it to call Audrey or Duke.

_I gotta be hallucinating_, he thought, watching the two men approach a third before they went into another entrance of the building. His mouth dropped open as he watched Driscoll open the door and let the other two men into the building just as Audrey was coming out of the side door.

Nathan gestured wildly at her, and she came on the run.

"What's the matter?" she asked, opening the car door.

"Audrey—I-I just saw him. I mean, it _looked _like him, maybe I was wrong, but I swear to God, it looked just like him!" Nathan got all out in a rush.

"Saw who?" she asked. "Was it Duke's brother?"

"No," Nathan said. "I _wish_ it had been Garrett Crocker. That I could understand—but not this."

"Well, who did you see, Nathan? It can't have been that bad."

"I saw the Rev, Audrey," Nathan told her.

Audrey looked startled. "You must have been dreaming, Nathan," Audrey soothed. "Or maybe it's that Ghost Trouble reactivated."

"Audrey, he was as real as I am," Nathan said. Having Ed Driscoll back in a Haven now infested with more Troubled people than ever before was going to be like trying to put out a five-alarm fire with matches and gasoline.

"Did he see you?"

"No, I don't think so," Nathan replied. Audrey didn't have this car when the Rev was alive, so he wouldn't have recognized it. Had they been in the Bronco, Driscoll would have known it in an instant.

"Was he with anyone?"

"His old buddy, the selectman, and some other guy," Nathan said. "Audrey, we gotta find out why he's back from the dead."

"I'm going to go see," Audrey replied.

"No, Audrey, don't," Nathan begged. "Don't go back in there alone. Get Dwight or Duke to go with you—don't try to hunt him down by yourself. They went in the side door—they could be anywhere in the hospital by now."

"All right," Audrey grudged.

"Let's just get out of here before they come back out," Nathan told her. "We need to find out what's going on, stat."

Audrey didn't like the idea of running away; but with Nathan still injured, she relented. She climbed into the car, and they drove away.

Nathan sat there racking his brains as to how the Rev was back from the dead. Duke was back because he hadn't _really_ been dead. But the Rev had been dead for over two years. Unless someone had found a way to do it through a Resurrection Trouble.

"I wonder if they somehow got ahold of Moira or her sister, Noelle," Audrey said, echoing his thoughts.

"Their Trouble only works on the recently dead," Nathan pointed out as Audrey drove. "It's got to be somebody with a high-powered Trouble to be able to restore someone to life after being dead for two years."

"We'll have to ask Duke to look through his grandfather's journal if there was any mention of someone with that kind of Trouble. Or if Vince and Dave know of anyone like that."

"Let's start with Vince and Dave," Nathan said. "Duke was being an ass this morning."

"He's worried over this brother of his, Nathan," Audrey replied. "You read Garrett's jacket—he's not a nice guy. Duke doesn't want him around Haven any more than Dwight does," she went on. "And yes, he was more than a little rude this morning," she added kindly. She'd have to have a talk with these two to see if they could straighten out their differences once and for all. "But for now, let's get you home. Then we'll talk to Vince and Dave."

A few hours after his encounter with Garrett in the hospital parking lot, Duke was driving north, heading towards the old Overlook Hotel where he and Nathan and Audrey had their shootout with Cornell Stamron and his copies, trying to save that kid, Henry.

But he wasn't going to the Overlook today. He was heading out to his and Garrett's 'Gran's' place.

It was a ramshackle farmhouse, once owned by their grandmother Rosehannah Crocker, his father's mother. Duke vaguely remembered her—she'd been a tough old broad. She'd had to be—widowed at thirty with a young son and a farm to run didn't leave her a lot of options.

She never remarried; but she'd taught Simon how to hunt and fish, how to fight, and how to conceal himself if ever he were being pursued. She hadn't liked the Crocker curse, but she'd loved her husband enough to learn to adapt to their family having it. "You can't help what you are," he remembered his grandmother saying to his father once. "You do _good_ for Haven. Others may not agree, but what you do is necessary."

He hadn't understood what she'd meant then, being only six. But he sure as hell knew what she'd meant now. He'd hated being Troubled. Only now he wasn't, and he'd asked himself several times that if he were confronted with his old Trouble, would he try to find a way to take it back? Or just let another soul shoulder that burden in his stead?

He chewed his lip. Garrett had said he understood about the high Troubled blood gave them. That meant that he was Troubled, or had been. Duke wondered if he still was, and if so, what that meant for him and for Haven.

In hindsight, Duke knew he'd mishandled the whole situation so badly with Wade, by not telling him, by pushing him away. They'd never been close, but he had just wanted to keep him safe from the insanity of Haven. Instead, it had only made things between them worse.

And then Jordan McKee had compounded his mistake by activating Wade's Trouble; a decision she didn't live long enough to regret.

Duke closed his eyes against the memory of that horrible day, first finding Wade's dumping ground for the Troubled that he'd been murdering, and then the confrontation with him on the _Rouge_.

He remembered the sickening feeling of the knife driving into Wade's body as Duke had tried to keep him from killing Jennifer. He hadn't wanted to _kill_ him, only stop him. But Wade was dead, and he couldn't change that fact, any more than he could change the fact that Jennifer was dead too.

Duke turned down the gravel road, where he could see the cedar-shingle roof of the two-story farmhouse.

The place had always scared him a little—the house looked like something one might find in a Stephen King novel, all pitched eaves and gables, replete with monster in the basement. The monster had actually been a furnace-but it had wheezed and moaned and made other assorted noises enough to actually pass muster for monsterhood to a little kid with an active imagination.

He brought the truck to a stop, and climbed out, taking a pistol along with him. Garrett had a reputation for not traveling alone—and Duke just didn't feel like being ambushed by unexpected company.

He noticed there were no other vehicles in sight, and he walked around the house. There didn't appear to be anyone inside or in the old barn, save for his Gran's old truck that probably hadn't been moved in 20 years, but he checked it out.

Duke was surprised to see that the truck had been restored to driveability, and he headed back up toward the house, stopping to look just under the top step that led to the porch, where a key was hidden. This place was one of his 'just in case' hiding spots, and he kept a key around for just such an occasion.

He found it, and made his way inside.

The house was warm, indicating that Garrett was here, or had been. There was food in the fridge, the coffee on the stove was hot, and there was a coat draped on the back of a kitchen chair.

"Garrett," Duke called out. "Are you here?"

Silence answered him.

Duke made his way into the living room. There was a fire going in the fireplace, and it didn't look as though it'd been very long since someone had added wood to it.

_Somebody's here_, he thought. _I can feel it_.

"Garrett? Hello, anybody here?" he called out again towards the stairs. "Garrett, it's Duke."

Upstairs, he heard a faint thump, and what sounded like a cry.

Duke drew his pistol out, and slowly made his way up the stairs.

"So—how are you feeling, Nathan?" Vince asked politely, as he and Dave sat down at the kitchen table with he and Audrey.

"I was okay, till we left the hospital," Nathan answered.

"Nathan saw someone," Audrey explained. "Someone who shouldn't be here."

"Who? It wasn't—_her_, was it?" Vince asked, eyeing Audrey.

"No, no, it wasn't Mara. She's gone for good," Audrey said. "Nathan says he saw Reverend Driscoll go into the hospital with the selectman this morning."

Vince and Dave looked at one another, aghast.

"That's not possible—he's dead, Nathan," Dave said.

"I know what I saw, and I _saw_ the Rev. Live and in the flesh. He was no ghost," Nathan stated. "Now what we need to know is has there ever been anyone with a Resurrection Trouble like that? I'm not talking about like Moira and Noelle. Someone who is capable is raising the dead, even the long-dead."

Vince was silent a moment, and then spoke.

"There was a story about a hundred and twenty years ago, of a family, the Delroulards," he began. "The grandmother was a big-time medium and spiritualist, she had several daughters, all of whom inherited their mother's abilities. But there was one daughter, Elsa Deroulard, went against her mother's wishes and married a man she didn't deem suitable, and her mother cut her off without a cent.

"On learning his new bride was penniless, the husband left her, even though she was expecting. The child she delivered had that Resurrection Trouble—a mutation of its mother and father's Troubles."

"Troubles have been known to splinter and change, especially when two people who have different Troubles have children together," Audrey said, recalling what Charlotte had said.

"But the thing with that Trouble was that it took away from the life span of the Troubled person," Vince went on. "The longer a person had been deceased, the more it took away."

"So say they were asked to revive someone who'd been dead for a long period of time, they might actually—_die_—themselves in the process?" Nathan asked, and Vince nodded.

"Needless to say, the family was besieged with bereaved family members wanting them to bring their loved one back. It made them something of an endangered species, to say the least," Vince said drily.

"I shouldn't wonder," Nathan said.

"Until one day, they packed and moved away from Haven in the middle of the night. Where they went is unclear. Some said they went north to Canada. Others said they went south, to New Orleans. But the whole family just up and vanished."

"Probably changed their name too," Dave put in.

"One would think so," Vince said mysteriously. "But I recently heard from our old friend the ghost hunter, Seth."

"Seth?" Audrey asked. "What did he want?"

"He's been investigating a case about a young boy's death and his sister's abduction. He said these children had that Resurrection Trouble."

"So someone found the descendants, and their Trouble must still be active," Audrey said. "Troubles just don't die out, unless the family does."

"That's not all," Vince went on. "He also went on to say that they were part of a sort of—commune, down there in New Orleans. He said that he believes that the people of the house are all Troubled in some way, that they lived together to help look after one another, and the two children. They were orphans—the couple looking after them were foster parents. So they're very concerned for the little girl."

"Understandable," Audrey replied.

"That wasn't the worst of it. Two days later, their house caught fire while they were home in bed," Vince told them. "The police say it was deliberate arson; it was a miracle they all escaped. So the family are very upset over all of this. And you _know_ what happens when Troubled people become emotionally distraught."

"Their Trouble intensifies," Nathan said.

"Well, we've always known that Troubled people don't all necessarily live in Haven," Audrey replied. "They're everywhere. So I don't suppose Seth has a contact number for these people, does he?"

"No, he's never approached them. He's scared to—doesn't know what their Troubles are, they could be dangerous. I told him to at least leave our number in their mailbox, to let us know what happened."

"What happened to the little boy?" Audrey questioned.

"Seth claims the boy was abducted-and then used to resurrect someone," he said. "That it took so much of his life away, he died a few hours after he was let go. Seth didn't know who it was they revived—but he knew that they were heading to Haven."

"I bet I can guess who it was they revived," Audrey said grimly. "And I bet that the Rev knows where that little girl is too."

"Now we just have to find where he's hiding out," Nathan answered. "Better let Duke and Dwight know what's going on."

Duke reached the top of the staircase. He heard the faint muffled thump again. It sounded as though someone were trying to attract his attention, and he moved silently in the direction of it

It was coming from his grandmother's old bedroom, and Duke slowly turned the knob, then kicked the door open.

Inside, he found a little girl, tied to a chair, her dark hair dangling in her face. She looked at him, her green eyes frightened and mumbled something through her gag.

"What the hell, Garrett?" Duke muttered, going to the little girl. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," he soothed the girl.

"Hello, Duke," he heard behind him. "It's been a long time."

Duke froze. _No_. It _couldn't_ be. He turned and looked behind him.

It was.

"Well, well, Reverend Driscoll," Duke said, gauging the older man. "I see that the Hopkins Ghost Trouble is active again," he commented. "Well, Rev, if you see my Dad floating around here somewhere, tell him I said hi." He moved closer to the little girl.

"I'm no ghost," Driscoll told him. "And leave her where she is-or I'll have to take action against you."

"Go ahead," Duke answered. "Don't be afraid," he told the little girl. "He's not really there."

He moved toward the little girl, and Driscoll brought up a baseball bat and swung, striking Duke across the back of his head, knocking the air out of him and down to the floor, stunned.

"Do I feel real enough to you now?" he asked Duke.

"Y'know, killin' him's not gonna make him want ta help ye," Duke heard Garrett say before someone turned the lights out in his brain.

Dwight arrived at Nathan's house, and listened to all that Nathan and Vince had discovered between them.

As to whether or not he actually believed Nathan was another story. But if there was one thing Dwight Hendrickson had learned a long time ago—if someone tells you something that couldn't possibly be true anywhere else in the world, then it was probably the absolute truth in Haven, Maine.

"So the Rev's back," Dwight said. "That is _just_ what we need. Add that on top of Garrett-"

"Garrett," Dave spoke. "You don't mean Garrett _Crocker_?"

"Yeah. Don't tell me _you_ know him, Dave," Dwight said.

"I know _of_ him," Dave replied. "And he _knows_ about the Troubles. His mother's people are from here, that's how she and Simon met!"

"Might have mentioned that before, Vince," Nathan commented.

"I was just getting to that," Vince retorted, giving Dave a dirty look. "If _someone_ could've held out."

"Duke said yesterday he didn't think his brother knew about their Trouble," Dwight answered, puzzled.

"Simon Crocker was a great many things," Vince put in. "Crafty was among them. He probably taught each of his sons differently. He told Garrett, being his oldest, and Garrett in turn was probably supposed to tell Duke and Wade. Possibly he'd planned on the three of them finding his box and journal together, I don't know. But after Simon died, Garrett ended up in prison for over ten years, Duke went abroad doing God knows what, and Wade was building his life in New York. A lot of things happened in that time frame."

"Duke never had a clue that his family was Troubled, until he became Troubled himself," Nathan said, with Dwight nodding agreement.

"Which probably means that Vince's right-that Garrett's known all along. If he's not Troubled, then he's going to be looking for the person who got their family's Trouble until he finds them," Dwight reasoned, his cop's mind putting the puzzle pieces together.

"Sounds like somebody in Haven's been keeping him informed," Nathan remarked. "And probably told him that Duke had released those Troubles, that he needed to come to Haven, and help Duke put an end to them. Only problem was, Duke lost his family's Trouble along with all the rest of them."

"That may be why those two murders were committed. The first one, that Dr. Morrow blamed Duke for—Calvin Morrow," Dwight said. "Garrett may have killed him, thinking Morrow had his family's Trouble—but it was a mistake. He wasn't the right man."

"Simon wrote in the journal that _Duke_ was his heir," Audrey said. "So why would he teach Garrett all about the Troubles and not Duke?"

"Duke's mother he married. Perhaps Marie was Troubled too, I don't know. Or possibly he knew Duke would be the one that the Trouble would be the most strong in, the one who would not let it overtake him," Vince said. "Maybe he presumed that Duke would in turn Trouble his brothers if he deemed it necessary. I don't know-Simon and I were great friends, originally. But after he became Troubled, he became someone else entirely. A monster. I can't say for certain what went on in Simon Crocker's mind."

"Duke wouldn't have shared his Trouble with his brothers, not for any reason. You saw how it went down with Wade," Audrey answered. She thought of something. "Who was killed yesterday? You never got the chance to tell me," Audrey asked Dwight.

"A guy named Louis Gifford. Just an average guy, a tax accountant. His wife said he'd had some sort of episode a few weeks back where he got really strong after he was helping his neighbor with a cut on his hand, that his eyes looked like they changed color too, but it didn't last long. Couple days later, he disappeared. He turned up dead on a beach this morning with a stab wound through the heart."

"_That_ Trouble sounds familiar," Audrey remarked.

"So you really think Garrett murdered these guys trying to _recover_ the Crocker curse?" Nathan said.

"That's what I'm planning on asking him if and when I ever catch up with him," Dwight replied. "That just seems to be the hard part. Nobody knows where he is."

"I bet I know one guy who might," Audrey said, taking out her phone. She dialed Duke's number, but it just rang and rang.

"C'mon, Duke," she muttered, dialing again. "Pick up already."

"Wake up," Duke heard Garrett say before the shock of icy water hit him in the face.

Duke jerked back to consciousness. He vaguely wondered if getting knocked out twice in two days was going to hurt his long-term memory. That was if he _lived_ long enough to have a long-term memory.

He looked around him. They were back downstairs in his grandmother's living room. He was tied, bare-chested to a chair, and in the room were Reverend Driscoll, Garrett, Selectman Knoll, and a couple of other men that Duke remembered as being cronies of Driscoll's.

He also noted a small woman toward the back of the room and he wondered what she had to do with all of this. She sat quietly on the sofa, and seemed to be out of it.

"First things first," Driscoll said. "Duke, you once said that you wished to know everything about your father, about the Troubles. Do you still wish to know?"

"I've found out enough without your help," Duke answered. "Enough to know I don't want any part of his legacy _or_ yours. Troubled people aren't monsters to be hunted down and killed."

"That's what _she's_ told you," Driscoll answered. "She's brainwashed you into believing her lies."

"Who, Audrey? Yes, I believe in her. I still believe we can find a way to stop the Troubles, not like this. And I _know_ of what she did, when she was someone else, when she was Mara. I've seen it, I've experienced it. But Mara is gone, permanently. She's only Audrey now."

"And yet the Troubles remain," Driscoll toned. "That is where you and your brother come in."

"Garrett, don't listen to this windbag," Duke grated. "Don't believe a word he says."

"Oh, but I _do_ believe him, Duke," Garrett told him, sitting down in a chair in front of him. "And you will too."

"_Never_," Duke said through gritted teeth.

"You will," Garrett replied. "First, though—I got a little present for ye."

Duke watched as Garrett slashed open a cut on his palm.

"I found it, Duke," he said, almost gleeful. "I found our birthright. I had ta take it back, but I got it."

"You killed somebody for it," Duke got out, horrified. Garrett was a cruel bastard, but this was a whole new level of low for him. Something was _wrong_ with his elder brother, he knew. He was Garrett-but he wasn't _quite_ Garrett, as though he were being controlled by someone else.

"Had ta do what I had ta do," Garrett answered watching the blood ooze from the reopened cut, as though taking a man's life were no more a matter than if he'd stepped on a bug.

"Garrett, don't do this," Duke pleaded. "Don't let these guys poison your mind. We_ don't_ have to do the things they want us to do."

"Yer a Crocker, Duke—it's our destiny ta do this," Garrett told him, and laid his bloody palm against Duke's chest.

Duke felt Garrett's blood sink into his flesh, feeling like his veins were on fire, that giddying rush as his Trouble infused itself into his body once more. He cried out, straining at the ropes that bound him, but Garrett's knots held firm as he convulsed in the throes of the blood rush.

_So Garrett's Troubled after all_, Duke thought weakly. _And now he's Troubled me again too_.

The high passed, and Duke's silvery eyes returned to their normal shade of brown, and he looked up at the men in the room.

"And the answer is still no," he said weakly.

"I thought that it would be your answer," Driscoll told him. He seemed almost amused by Duke's truculent attitude. "So I have taken precautions to prevent any repeat occurences."

Selectman Knoll fetched the little woman from the sofa and pushed her forward, talking quietly to her.

"Who's this? Your mother? Is she going to give me a good talking-to?" Duke asked.

"This is Margaret," Driscoll said, patting the little woman's shoulder. "You see, we've kept careful track of the Troubled through the years too, Duke. And you do have a valid point—not all Troubled are monsters. Some can even be—beneficial-if they're properly managed."

"Properly managed," Duke repeated. He didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"Margaret's got a rather unique gift," Selectman Knoll said. "She's very...what's the word..._influential_. That's why we were at the hospital today, we were getting her out. We saw you were there at the hospital, so Garrett here served as our distraction," he nodded, and Garrett smiled and winked at Duke.

"She's going to help you to change your mind about the way things should be in Haven," Driscoll told him. "Not to worry, I'm assured that it isn't painful. And when she's done," he went on ominously. "You will see things for what they are. Garrett understands this, don't you, Garrett?"

"Absolutely," Garrett answered. "Things _have_ ta change here in Haven. You an' I will be the ones ta help change 'em, little brother."

Duke saw everything in an instant—and was horrified by it. Driscoll and his cronies were 'culling' the Troubled who could be forced to use their Troubles to sway people to their cause, and now they expected him and Garrett to be part of their little performing Troubled menagarie.

"You call _Mara_ a monster," Duke told Driscoll. "_You're_ a far worse one than she ever was!"

"The only monster in Haven is Audrey Parker," Driscoll told him coldly. "But her time is rapidly drawing to a close."

"Garrett," Duke tried again. "You never took orders from _nobody_. Why are you doing this now?"

"Because I must, brother," Garrett replied. "We have a duty—a _responsibility_—ta Haven."

He had a strange look in his eyes, and Duke _knew_ that he'd been affected by a Trouble, probably one that the little woman now shuffling toward him had inflicted. Driscoll had probably promised him answers, the same as he had promised him once before, provided that he recover their family curse. And once Garrett had recovered their Trouble, Driscoll had enslaved him into doing his bidding with a Trouble.

"Hold him," Driscoll grumbled.

Selectman Knoll and Garrett bent a struggling Duke forward at the waist, holding his head down as he felt Margaret place her hand against the back of his neck.

Duke had a sinking feeling that he was about to be subjected to that same Trouble—and had no way to warn Audrey and Nathan about the fact that the Rev was alive-or that he was about to be turned to the dark side.


	4. House of Troubles

**4**

**House of Troubles**

**The Blackstocks come to Haven, in search of their missing foster daughter. Seth joins in the fray; and Duke and Garrett become Haven's worst nightmare**

Audrey sighed, listening to Duke's phone ring for the umpteenth time before it went to voicemail. She hung up, frustrated. She didn't know what had happened to him; they hadn't heard a peep from him all day, and she was starting to become concerned.

She and Dwight were working on the case of Louis Gifford's murder, and were listening to Gloria's evaluation of Gifford's body.

"Well, he was restrained at one point, he's got ligature marks on him. He tried like hell to escape, too," Gloria pointed to the reddish marks that crisscrossed Gifford's wrists, chest and ankles. "And it's the same type of wound that Morrow had—one stab with a long, sharp blade, severed the aortic valve, he was dead in about ten seconds."

Dwight glanced back at Audrey tucking her phone back in her jacket pocket, his face concerned.

"Still no word from Duke?"

"No, nothing," she answered. "I'm getting worried about him. What if he ran into Garrett somewhere?"

"I'll go by and check out the _Rouge_, see if he's there. Maybe he left us a note or something," Dwight told her. "Gloria, let me know if you find out anything else. If you happen to hear from Duke, tell him I said to check in with us."

"Will do," came her reply.

Ed Driscoll was reading over the notes that Selectman Knoll had been keeping on the various citizens of Haven, when he heard a noise.

He glanced up, and saw Duke and Garrett come into the room. He sat up, leaning back in his chair, surveying them, standing there alongside one another.

Once they'd left the hospital and arrived at the farmhouse, Driscoll had Margaret take hold of Garrett. He was well aware of his reputation as a hard case; and had made sure that he was the first to be brought to bear. Once he was under control, it had just been a matter of getting him to lure Duke to the farmhouse, which he'd done beautifully.

They'd had Margaret work on Duke for some time. It had taken her longer than she had with Garrett; but Driscoll felt confident that both Crockers were now firmly under her, or rather,_ his_ control.

Duke looked back at him, his expression neutral, but polite.

"Duke, Garrett," Driscoll spoke.

"Good evening, Reverend Driscoll," Duke greeted him formally.

"Reverend," Garrett answered.

"Well now, Duke," the Rev said. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you," Duke replied. "I feel much better—and ready to help you begin cleansing Haven of the Troubles—and of _her_."

"That's more like it," Driscoll answered with a grim smile. "But I will need some things from you before we can start. Sit down, sit down," he gestured at the table.

"Name them and they're yours," Duke said, taking a seat at the table with the minister, Garrett in the other chair. They leaned in, listening intently to Driscoll, their eyes on him. Driscoll had no doubt that if either of them were to encounter Audrey Parker at this moment, they would take her down without a moment's hesitation.

"Duke, you and Garrett will need your father's tools," Driscoll told him. "I don't suppose you know where they are."

"I do indeed," Duke answered. "And I have his journal."

"I need you to get them."

"Done," Duke replied, and he and Garrett headed out the door.

Selectman Knoll watched after the pair.

"Should we send someone along with them?"

"No," Driscoll uttered. "Margaret has a good hold on them. So long as we have one on her, they're going nowhere." He clapped him on the shoulder. "We got Garrett Crocker under control," he told the selectman. "But more importantly, we finally got Duke out from under Audrey Parker's thumb."

In the front of Haven PD, Stan was walking a girl into the lockup. She was young, maybe in her early twenties, with a black razor-cut bob, and pale blue eyes.

She'd burst in at Haven Memorial Hospital, looking for a patient that had been released, and had been almost hysterical to find her gone. He'd finally had to take her into custody for disturbing the peace, and he gently ushered her into the cell, the girl offering no resistance.

"Now you just keep calm, Miss," he told her. "We'll get this situation with your aunt straightened out, okay? I'm gonna go talk to the Chief, and he'll come and talk with you, all right?"

The girl said nothing, merely glared balefully at him.

Stan shrugged, and turned back to the door.

"Do you really think that you can hold me in here?" he heard her ask quietly from behind him.

He turned back around. The girl was standing at the bars, her hands wrapped around them. She had an almost amused expression on her face as he looked at her.

"Well—yeah," he answered. "If the hospital decides to press charges, we can."

"Right," the girl answered, and suddenly her hands glowed red-hot.

Stan watched as the bars she gripped collapsed like solder beneath her grip, and the red was moving up her arms as she pressed the bars apart and then stepped outside the cell.

"Holy crap!" Stan got out. He backed up, slamming the iron door behind him.

Dwight heard the bang, and saw Stan skittering back from the door. He headed down to investigate.

"Stan, what-" he broke off, watching as fingers appeared to be melting through the metal door, first making a small hole, and then hands appear in the red-hot tear, pushing at it.

"What the hell?" Dwight said, wide-eyed. This was a Trouble like they'd never encountered before and he wasn't sure how he was going to deal with who or whatever was burning their way through a two-inch-thick metal door with their bare hands, when there was a sudden jolt from the front of the police station, the ground rumbling under their feet like a small earthquake.

The red-hot metal door finally tore in two, and the girl stepped through.

"Jane, stop that!" a man with a thick black beard hollered. "You ain't helping us out none!"

The girl stopped, breathing hard. The glow in her hands subsided, and she lowered them to her sides.

"Who are you?" Dwight asked.

"You the top cop?" she asked.

"I'm the police chief, yeah. I'm Dwight," he told her. "Now suppose we all take a deep breath and you tell me what's going on. First, who're you, sir?" he asked the bearded man.

"I'm Oliver Blackstock," the man said. "This here's Jane Dumont, my foster daughter. We come lookin' for her aunt, Margaret Hilliard. She's gone missin' from the hospital."

"Okay, we're going to sit down and rationally talk all this out," Dwight reassured them.

"See, I told you she'd be out," Dwight heard a familiar voice say, and looked up to see Seth strolling into the police station.

"Great," he groaned. "Really needed that little pest right now."

"Seth," Audrey said, coming out of her office. "What brings you here?"

"Officer Parker. Oliver, this is the woman I was telling you about on the way here," Seth said. "Audrey Parker, this is Oliver Blackstock, his lovely wife Elise, their foster daughter Jane Hilliard, and there's another girl hanging around somewhere," he said, looking around. "They're looking for-"

"Their daughter, that was abducted," Audrey finished. "I thought Vince told you to just give them our numbers, not get involved."

"We _asked_ him to come, because he knows y'all," Jane spoke. "We get up here, and now we find out my aunt's gone too," she went on . "I went to the hospital to see her, and they said that her minister and her 'doctor' took her out to go to some halfway home. Only her _real_ doctor didn't authorize anything of the sort."

Audrey ushered them all into she and Nathan's office, and closed the door.

"Okay," she said. "Let's take it from the top."

"Bout a month ago, my foster kids Caine and Liesel Berkley, went missing," Blackstock began. "Well, we got Caine back a few hours later, he'd been dropped off at an emergency room down in New Orleans, that's where we live. We go down there, but he's fadin' fast. He told us that he and Liesel were taken to an old house, and he was made to go and touch a man, a dead man, in order to resurrect him. He and his sister have-had-that power. That might sound crazy to y'all, but it's_ true_."

"Not as crazy as you'd think around here," Audrey remarked. "Was he able to he say who the man was?"

Blackstock shook his head. "No, he didn't. They picked him 'cause he was the older of the two to do the thing. The thing with his—thing-"

"Here in Haven, we call them Troubles," Audrey said kindly.

"Troubles," Blackstock repeated, and gave a rueful laugh. "They are that. Anyways, Caine and Liesel can revive dead people—even people's who's been dead fer awhile, but it hurts 'em if they don't take it in spells. They wouldn't let him stop and rest," he went on. "They made him do it all at once, said they were in a hurry to go home. It—it was just too much fer his heart ta take, he was only twelve," Blackstock finished, his voice breaking slightly. "Liesel's ten. He managed to tell us that them people took her with them. He died about two hours after we got there."

"Did he ever know who the man was that he revived?" Audrey questioned.

"No, he didn't know. But he said he was a preacher. The people all kept callin' him Reverend, so I guess he wasn't no Catholic priest," Oliver told her.

"So Nathan was right," Dwight said, his face grim.

"So what was all that about your aunt at the hospital?" Dwight asked Jane.

"I just call her my aunt," Jane took up the story. "She's really Elise's aunt. But her—Trouble-you call it, it's a real strong one. She can influence people."

"Aunt Margaret can tell someone something and it becomes just like the gospel truth to them. They believe what she tells them with an almost fanatical devotion," she continued. "But she's not an evil person. She's like a little child, mentally," Elise told them. "She's easily influenced herself. And devoutly religious."

Audrey felt her hopes sink. Combining Margaret's Trouble with the Rev's machinations did not spell out anything good for Haven.

"A friend of ours told us that you all reside in New Orleans," Dwight told Blackstock.

"That's right, we do. My wife and I are both—Troubled, like you said," he answered. "Elise's Trouble is like Margaret's. Jane, well, you seen what Jane can do," he added. "We couldn't have kids of our own, so we started takin' in kids. Kids who kept havin' problems trying to fit in to regular foster homes."

"How many of you are there?" Dwight asked.

"Used to be nine, now eight of us, all together. Olivia's—someplace. Louise is back at the hotel. She can't be out in the sun, she burns up almost like paper," he continued. "There's Sam. He's-well, it's like he can't get hurt."

"He can't feel anything?" Audrey questioned.

"No, he feels it. It just don't hurt him. You could break a baseball bat on him and he just looks at you, like he's made out of stone or something," Blackstock told her. "And little Tori—can't touch folk. Hurts you bad if she touches you with her bare hands."

"Like Jordan's Trouble," Dwight murmured sadly.

"You take in Troubled kids," Audrey said, feeling a sudden rush of empathy for the Blackstocks.

"I reckon we do," Blackstock said, shrugging. "We try to help 'em learn to deal with their—Troubles. But these people showed up and they took my kids, and then they torched our house-" he broke off, his face angry, his breathing shallow.

"Ollie, calm down," Elise spoke urgently.

Blackstock's expression remained angry, and there was suddenly a rumbling, and a large crack ran up the wall in Nathan's office.

Audrey gaped at the crack. _Was he related to the Chief?_ She thought. Aloud she said, "Oliver? Are you from Haven, originally?"  
>"My family came from here, long ago," Blackstock said. "Why?"<p>

"I knew someone who had a Trouble like yours before," she said. "I thought perhaps you might be related."

"The Chief's Trouble," Dwight put in, remembering.

"I dunno. Mebbe," Blackstock shrugged. He was calmer, and he exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry about your wall," he apologized. "But all I know is I wanna get my family back."

"And we're going to help you do it," Seth piped up.

"What is the _'we'_ in this?" Dwight asked him.

"Hey, I brought them here to you," Seth protested. "Least you could do is let me help out a little."

"Where are you staying? At the Over The Way?" Dwight asked.

"No, I wanted to keep the kids outta harm's way. I got a cousin, who's widowed, she's got a place out on the water. Her late husband Vaughn owned it."

"You mean Carpenter's Knot?" Audrey asked. She hadn't been out there since she'd been body-snatched on her birthday by the Chameleon that had been Vaughn Carpenter.

"Yeah, that's it," Blackstock said. "It's perfect for the kids. It's kinda isolated, but they seem to like it. And cousin Olivia seems to enjoy their company too. But we gotta get back out there, check on the others."

"We'll come with you," Audrey told them. She thought of calling Duke again, but he was clearly blowing her off. Fine. Dealing with Duke and his snotty attitude would just have to keep for a little while longer.

Out at Eastside Cemetery, Duke dug deeper into the grave plot where Simon Crocker was buried, looking for the large box of weapons that he had buried there two years prior.

"Can't believe ya buried 'em here," Garrett commented, watching as Duke unearthed the edge of the large silver box. "In our father's grave, no less."

"I never had any intention of using them," Duke replied, and shook his head. "What an _idiot_ I was, Garrett. I let her lead me around by the nose me for _years_ into helping her, thinking we could resolve the Troubles."

"Well, ya come ta yer senses now, an' that's what matters," Garrett grunted, helping to pull the box loose from the earth. "I talked ta Reverend Driscoll—he says that if we do well, he'll see about revivin' Da," he nodded at the headstone. He thought for a moment. "We could be a proper family again, Duke."

"That would be nice," Duke mused. "We could use his help."

"She really as dangerous as ye say?" Garrett asked. "Seems like such a tiny thing. Pretty too."

"She killed Dad and our grandfather, and probably God only knows how many more of our ancestors. Not to mention all the things that she did to _me_," Duke told him heatedly. "So yes, while she is pretty, she is _very_ dangerous."

"Well, then, it's too bad for her," Garrett said briskly.

"And why is that, Garrett?"

"Because she hasn't encountered us yet," Garrett said, and looked at his brother. "We're in it together, Duke," he assured his little brother, holding his hand out to Duke, who clasped it in his own, Garrett helping him rise to his feet. "We're going to put this town right—just as Da wanted us ta do. Just have ta figger out how ta draw her out."

Duke felt his phone buzz yet again, and looked at the caller. He could see all the missed calls from Audrey, but the call coming through this time wasn't from her.

"I know how we can draw her out," Duke told his brother, and answered the phone. "Hey Nathan," he said cheerfully. "I was just on my way to see you."


	5. A Liar's Illusions

**5**

**A Liar's Illusions**

_Duke and Garrett, both under the influence of Margaret Hilliard's Trouble by proxy of the Rev, put their plans to capture Audrey into action by using bait Duke knows she can't resist—Nathan Wuornos_

Audrey phoned Nathan from the pier, where they were about to cast off for Carpenter's Knot.

"We met up with the Blackstocks—they're the foster family of the boy who revived the Rev," she told him. "Have you heard anything from Duke today? I've been calling him, and he's not picking up."

"Actually, I just heard from him," Nathan replied. "He told me he was on the way over here."

"Well, good," Audrey said, relieved. "Maybe you can find out what's bugging him today, and tell him I said to _call_ me, Nathan."

"I will," Nathan told her, looking out the window, seeing Duke's truck come to a stop outside his house. "He just pulled up. I'll let you know what he says."

He hung up, and watched Duke climb out of his truck and come toward the door. He looked up, seeing Nathan watching him, and for a moment, Duke had a strange expression on his face, and Nathan felt a chill, as though he had a premonition that something wasn't right. But Duke smiled and waved to him as he normally would.

Nathan heard his step on the porch.

"It's open, Duke," he called, and the doorknob turned.

"Hey, Nathan," Duke greeted, coming in the door. "How's the hands?" He looked around. "Everybody left you here all by yourself?"

"They're all right. And yes, Vince and Dave went out to get some takeout, they'll be back shortly," Nathan answered. "Where've you been all day?" he asked Duke. "Audrey's been worried sick about you. She said she's been trying to call you all day."

"My phone was dead," Duke said dismissively. "Why, what's up?"

"Said she's going to meet with the family of an abducted kid. They're here in Haven, looking for her," Nathan answered. Something was off about Duke, he could feel it. _But who the hell knows what goes on in Crocker's head_, he thought.

"Where is Audrey now?" Duke asked, moving around, looking at things in the room as though he were hunting for something.

"Said she was on the way to Carpenter's Knot. They'll be back afterwhile. She wants you to call her; she also wanted to know if you could stay here and give me a hand, just until she gets back," Nathan fibbed. "She's worried about you."

"How sweet," Duke answered, his voice flat, and Nathan's alarm bells went off. He began to ease his hand toward his phone, but a strange hand reached down next to him and snatched it away.

Nathan looked back at Duke with a startled expression, but Duke just seemed amused by the action.

"I guess I should introduce you two," he said to the man coming around to the front of the sofa.

Duke didn't need to introduce him—Nathan recognized him from the file he'd seen in the hospital.

"Garrett," Nathan got out, watching the elder Crocker brother tucking _his_ phone away into a jacket pocket. Now he realized why something felt off about Duke—Garrett must be affecting him somehow.

"So this is himself, eh?" Garrett questioned Duke, looking down at Nathan, who sat there stunned into silence.

"Oh yeah," Duke said. "You know, Garrett, you wouldn't _believe_ the things Nathan's done for her," Duke said conversationally, as though Nathan weren't even there. "He's why things are as messed up around here as they are now. All because he couldn't _let her go_," he directed at Nathan.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Duke?" Nathan barked at him, getting to his feet, but Garrett pushed him down, hard.

"Easy," Duke corrected his brother. "He may not be able to feel anything, but that's no reason to mistreat him."

"Now I _know_ you've lost it," Nathan said. "Duke, look—whatever's wrong with you, Audrey-"

"Do you _hear_ him? Audrey, Audrey, Audrey, _always_ about Audrey," Duke interrupted, rolling his eyes. He swiftly crossed the room, kneeling down in front of a stunned Nathan, pinning him back against the couch.

"Nothing's wrong with me—I've had my eyes opened, Nathan," he told him. "Audrey—she's like Kali, the goddess of destruction. All she brings is death and heartache in her wake," he went on, chilling Nathan to the bone. He'd thought at first Duke was joking—but he could see now that he was deadly serious. "She is _never_ going to fix this town. She doesn't _really_ want to fix the Troubles, you know," he told Nathan. "It's just too much fun for her to watch us all _suffer_," he ground out savagely.

"That was _Mara_, but Audrey's not her anymore, Duke, you _know_ that!" Nathan argued. "That's why what happened to you happened!"

Duke gave a short, hard laugh. "It doesn't matter who the hell she is now, the story remains the same. The Troubles go on and on and on with no end in sight," Duke told him, releasing his shoulders. "So we're going to fix it."

"Who—you and Garrett?" Nathan answered. He was so angry he was shaking. But at the same time, he knew that this had to be some sort of Trouble—the real Duke Crocker would _never_ want to hurt Audrey.

"Well, yes, Garrett and I are certainly going to do our part to clean things up," Duke replied. "But you're going to help us out too. This is your chance for redemption, Nate—you're going to _fix_ that mistake you made when you wouldn't let her go back into that Barn, once and for all," he finished ominously.

"_Never_!" Nathan roared, leaping off the couch at Duke, but Duke was too quick for him, and clocked Nathan across the back of his head with his softball trophy, knocking him cold.

"Thought ye said ya didn't wanna hurt him," Garrett said.

"He can't feel it anyway," Duke panted. "Once he has a chat with Reverend Driscoll, he'll come around to our way of thinking." He looked around, glancing outside. "Grab him, and let's get out of here before those two old vultures get back."

Garrett gathered up Nathan, and taking one arm, and Duke taking the other, frog-marched him out to Duke's truck, loading him in, and after making sure he was securely trussed, they drove away.

The boat ride out to Carpenter's Knot was a long one, but they soon made it to the little dock that ran out in front of the former hotel.

Audrey thought back to when she and Duke were coming out here on the pretext of he 'saw something' that he had to show her, only to find out that it was a surprise birthday party for her. However, the surprise would turn out to be on all of them.

She fingered the little locket around her neck. Once belonging to her former self, Lucy Ripley, Audrey often wore it, hoping that in some way, it would help her to remember more about her former life.

Audrey had questioned Duke extensively about what he could remember of Lucy, and he said all he could recall was the memory of her giving him the necklace.

"I _know_ I knew her, Audrey," he'd said. "But I can't remember how we met, how long I knew her, or what happened between us. It's just not there, just like the day the Colorado Kid died."

Audrey believed him, for the most part. Duke had a habit of only telling anywhere from a third to three-quarters of the truth at any given time, and so she'd just had to settle for what she could get.

The boat came to a stop, and Dwight and Oliver assisted the ladies out of the boat, and they made their way up the little walkway to the hotel.

They were met at the door by Olivia Carpenter, the widow of the chameleon who had masqueraded as her deceased husband Vaughn.

"Miz Carpenter," Dwight nodded to her. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, everyone's doing all right," she replied. "Hello, Audrey."

"Hello, Mrs. Carpenter," Audrey answered.

"Daddy!" they heard a little girl's squeal.

Audrey looked up and could see a little red-haired girl bounding down the staircase, coming toward Oliver, her arms outstretched.

"Baby, slow down, slow down," he warned. "You don't have your gloves on. You don't want to hurt anybody."

Olivia reached around her shoulders, taking her shawl off and giving it to Oliver, who scooped up the little girl with it.

"Hey there, Tora-Tora-Tori," he greeted her, the pair making goldfish kissy-faces at one another. So this was the little girl with the Jellyfish Trouble, like Jordan McKee had, Audrey noted. "Where is everybody?" Oliver asked her.

"Sam's in the kitchen. Louise is in her woom," she lisped.

"Where's Olivia? Did she come back here?" Oliver asked.

"Yes, sir, I did," came a voice from nowhere.

Dwight looked around, seeing no one. Invisible would be a Trouble he wouldn't wish on anyone.

"Well, come out, meet Chief Hendrickson and Detective Parker, they're gonna help us get Liesel back," he called.

"I am out."

"Then come on out, Olivia," Elise sighed. "Don't play games," she finished, and looked up. "Well, there you are," she smiled.

Dwight and Audrey glanced at one another, then slowly looked up over their heads, and gasped.

Standing on the ceiling directly over them, some twenty feet above their heads, was a teenaged girl, looking back down at them.

"Is that a Trouble or what?" Seth grinned up at her.

"_That _is a Trouble," Dwight answered in disbelief, and Audrey couldn't help but agree.

Nathan stirred, groggy, and tried to move, but the ropes holding him wouldn't give. He opened his eyes, taking in the legs of someone standing in front of him.

"Nathan Wuornos," he heard Driscoll say.

"What the hell have you done to Duke?" Nathan got out.

"_I_ didn't do anything to Duke. He's just finally sick and tired of trying to fix something that can't be fixed," Driscoll told him.

"Amen to that, Reverend," he heard Duke say from somewhere, and Nathan felt his heart hurt to hear his best friend say it.

"You did something," Nathan argued weakly. He felt like a bobblehead, and figured he probably had a concussion. His stomach was queasy, but he swallowed hard, and finally managed to raise his head enough to look up at Driscoll, and maybe figure out where he was.

He was in a kitchen somewhere, he noted, and he could see Duke and Garrett, sitting on the counters over by the sink, playing cards with one another as though they'd been together every day of their lives. Both of them seemed to be acting as though nothing was amiss with him sitting lashed to a chair in front of them. Duke glanced over at Nathan's mention of his name, but turned his attention back to his cards.

Nathan struggled, but the ropes held firm.

"Did he tell you where she was?" Driscoll asked the pair.

"Audrey's gone out to Carpenter's Knot," came Duke's answer. "There's no cell phone service out there. But I left word at Haven PD for her to meet me at The Overlook, alone. Garrett's taken Nathan," he said in an aside to his brother, the pair grinning as though it were an inside joke. "But I know where he's hiding out. She'll come back here with me," he finished, his tone firm. "She _trusts_ me."

"I'll kill you for this," Nathan growled at the man in front of him. "Audrey should've shot you in the head, you'd have _stayed_ dead then!" he raged, straining at the ropes that refused to yield.

"Hey! Don't be disrespectful to Reverend Driscoll!" Duke snapped at him, and Nathan wished he could wake up from the hellish nightmare he was trapped in, but unfortunately, he was already awake.

"It's all right, Duke," Driscoll reassured him. "Nathan just hasn't been shown the error of his ways yet. Noah," he called to the next room, and looked back down at a rage-filled Nathan, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "It's time our former police chief met our new friend."

"Haven PD calling The Knot, Haven PD calling The Knot," Dwight heard Laverne's voice crackling over the radio in the hotel office.

"This is The Knot, go ahead, Laverne," he called back.

"Got a message from Duke for Audrey," Laverne said.

"Let's have it."

"He said it was for her only," Laverne answered.

Dwight sighed, exasperated. One of these days, Crocker might trust him enough to take him into his confidence; but he wasn't going to hold his breath on that count.

"Let me get her," Dwight answered. "Hold the line. Audrey!" he shouted.

Audrey heard his call, and came to the office. "Yeah, Dwight?"

"Laverne's got a message from Duke, but says she's only supposed to give it to you," Dwight told her. "I'm gonna go see if Olivia needs us to run supplies over from the mainland," he finished, and headed out of the office.

Audrey pressed the mike button. "Go ahead, Laverne."

"Duke says that he knows where the pigeon is roosting," Laverne began. "He wants you to meet him alone at The Overlook."

"He must have found where Garrett's hiding," Audrey said to herself. "Did he say anything else?"

"Yeah—something about the pigeon had no feelings for his company, whatever that means," Laverne puzzled.

Audrey gasped. _No feelings_ was Duke's code for Nathan. Had Garrett taken Nathan as a hostage, trying to get out of Haven?

"Let Duke know that I will meet him there in two hours," Audrey told her, and banged down the handset, hurrying out into the hall.

"What's up?" Dwight questioned.

"Duke wants me to meet him somewhere—he thinks he has a line on where Garrett's hiding out," she replied.

"Want me to come with?" he asked.

"No, no. He said to come alone—doesn't want to scare him off," Audrey fibbed. She didn't like having to tell Dwight a lie like that, but if Garrett had taken Nathan for a hostage and he was as dangerous as everyone said he was, she wasn't taking any chances with the man she loved.

Dwight watched her go, frowning. He'd hated to do it, but he'd eavesdropped on Audrey's message. She didn't know it, but Dwight was about to become Audrey Parker's new shadow.


	6. Rook Takes Queen

**6**

_Audrey makes her way to the Overlook, where Duke is lying in wait for her. But neither of them know Dwight has a surprise for them both_

The boat made it back to the mainland, and everyone piled off.

"You sure you don't want me to go with you?" Dwight asked.

"I'm sure," Audrey replied. "It probably won't take very long."

"All right—if you're sure," Dwight answered, watching Audrey drive off. He motioned to Oliver, and he and Elise climbed into his truck, and set off in the direction that Audrey had gone.

"I thought that she said she was supposed to go alone," Oliver asked him as they drove.

"Got a text from a friend, Vince Teagues," Dwight began. "He's been sitting with one of my detectives, Nathan Wuornos, he's Audrey's partner, among other things," he went on. "Says he and his brother went to grab a bite to eat, came back to Nathan's place and he was gone."

"Maybe he had an errand to run," Elise suggested.

"Nathan burned his hands pretty bad a couple of days ago, he can't do much of anything for himself right now," Dwight said. "His vehicle was still there, and Vince says he just feels like something happened to him. I think Audrey's message at the hotel involved something about Nathan. Why would she go alone otherwise?"

"So we're going to follow her."

"Exactly. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. If I'm not-" Dwight trailed off. "Then maybe we're going to start getting some answers for not only two murders, but maybe a lead on Liesel's whereabouts."

"That's good enough for me," Oliver said.

It was going on dusk, but Audrey could see the massive abandoned structure that was The Overlook coming up on the right hand side of the road. She thought briefly about Cornell Stamron. She too knew what it was to be a 'copy', and she glimpsed Duke's truck parked outside, but he wasn't in it.

She pulled off the road, and parked, climbing out.

"Duke?" she called. Silence.

Audrey took her pistol out, and went closer to the hotel. She could hear only the sound of the wind blowing through the empty corridors, the rattle of plastic.

A sudden bang behind her, and she whirled around, her pistol drawn in an instant.

Duke was behind her, his long frame leaning against a doorway.

"Duke, don't do that," she scolded, holstering her pistol. "I could've shot you."

"Sorry, Audrey," he answered evenly.

"Why didn't you answer me when I called you?" she asked.

"My phone was dead."

"I mean just now. Didn't you hear me calling to you?"

"Oh, that. I was—indisposed," Duke grinned.

_What's wrong with him?_ Audrey thought. Something was definitely off with Duke, she could tell. Normally, he'd be chattering a mile a minute, but now, it was as though he were waiting for something, and Audrey felt the hairs on her neck stand on end.

"Where's Garrett, Duke?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "And you said that he had Nathan with him."

"I did say that," Duke replied. "And Nathan is with Garrett—and a few other friends." He took a step toward her. There was something _definitely_ off about Duke's behavior. He reminded her of how he'd been when he was possessed by that kid with a Body-Jumper Trouble, that look of hatred, of someone else looking out from behind his eyes. That look was there now, and it was making her uneasy.

Audrey eased the tab on her holster off again, and Duke stopped.

"You'd _shoot_ me, Audrey?" he asked, his tone unctuous. "After everything we've been through together?"

"Duke, I don't know what's happened to you," Audrey said. "But we can fix it."

"Fix it," Duke repeated, his voice gaining an edge. "Seems you're always trying to fix someone or something, Audrey. But they never _stay_ fixed for long, do they?"

Audrey really began to wish she'd asked Dwight to come along.

"Where's Nathan, Duke?" she questioned, her voice quivering. "What have you done with him?"

"What makes you think I've done anything to him?" Duke questioned, his tone soft.

"Nathan!" Audrey called out in the structure, her voice echoing in the corridors.

"Nathan's not here. I'll take you to him, but I'm gonna need that pistol first," Duke told her, holding his hand out. He took his other hand out from behind his back, and Audrey could see the gun in it.

"Duke, I know you're in there," Audrey tried reasoning with him. "Fight this thing, I know we can fix you."

"I think I've let you try to 'fix' me about all I'm going to," Duke answered, his voice full of ice, and came closer.

Audrey drew her pistol out again, pointing it at him, but Duke didn't flinch.

"Give me the pistol, Audrey," he said, taking aim at her. I would prefer not to shoot you, but I will if I have to."

"I don't think so, Crocker," Dwight answered behind him, putting his own pistol to the back of Duke's head. "Sorry, Audrey, I had to follow you."

"Figures," Duke said savagely, and grabbed for Dwight's pistol.

Dwight swung, connecting with Duke's jaw, and Oliver tackled Duke to the ground, the three scrapping and clawing at one another.

Duke came up with a knife, slashing Dwight's arm, his free hand clasping onto the wound.

Audrey saw the flash of silver spark in his eyes, and jumped onto his back. Holding onto Duke while he was experiencing his rush with Troubled blood was like trying to hold onto a bucking bronco as he slung the three of them off like rag dolls.

Duke reached for the pistol, and took aim at Dwight's head, when Elise tackled him from behind, and placed her hand on his neck.

"Stop it now!" she shouted at him.

Instantly Duke sagged, dropping the gun, as Audrey scrambled to grab it up, with Oliver holding the pistol on him.

"You're among friends," Elise told him.

"I'm among friends," Duke gasped, shaking his head, and looked up at them.

"_A-Audrey_?" he gasped, blinking at her, and then Dwight. "Sasquatch?"

"Duke," Audrey answered, touching his face. She could see that he was himself again, and looked at Elise, realizing that she must have used her Trouble to restore his sanity to him.

"You're Troubled again," Dwight noted.

"Yeah, I am. Garrett 'found' the Crocker curse, and used it to re-Trouble me," Duke answered bitterly.

"Where is your brother? Where's Nathan?" Audrey questioned.

"Back at my grandmother's house," Duke answered, still sprawled out under Elise's grip. "I'm okay, I'm—okay," he gasped. "Can I get up now, please?"

Elise shook her head no.

"If I let go, you'll turn back into what you were," she said. "I can't undo what Aunt Margaret's done, I can only nullify it while I touch you. Only she can undo it."

"Duke, _what_ is going on?" Dwight asked Duke.

"Audrey, the Rev's back," Duke began. "A-and it's not like before, he's not a ghost this time, he's real."

"We know," Audrey said. Duke looked startled that they already knew, but he solidered on.

"I don't know how he's back, but he is. Selectman Knoll's there too. They made some woman do something to Garrett and then they made her do something to me, it's like some kind of brainwashing Trouble. They have Nathan, too." He looked ashamed. "I know because I brought him to them."

"Is Liesel there?" Oliver burst out. "Liesel, she's a little girl, dark hair, green eyes. Have you seen her?"

"Yes, she's there," Duke nodded. "I think they have a few other Troubled people being held captive as well. They're using them to control the others. They want me and Garrett to kill Audrey, and take over Haven. And the awful thing is, they're succeeding at making us do what they want. The Rev tells her to tell me to do something, and I just have to. I feel like I've been turned into a Stepford wife," Duke cracked, back to his verbose self. "But I _have_ to. This Trouble removes your ability to resist-you have to do what they tell you to do, it feels like-"Duke searched for the words. "It feels like—you'll _die_ if you don't."

"You will," Elise said softly. "People who try to fight our Trouble when they've been influenced, it hurts them to the point they either go insane or have an aneurysm. Margaret's killed people before-that's why she was in the hospital kept on medication. Our Trouble is extremely dangerous."

Duke looked stricken at her answer. "If I try to resist, I die, and if I don't, I kill my friends," Duke said bitterly. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Story of my life."

"We're gonna find a way to fix it, Duke," Dwight assured him. Where is this place they're being held?"

"My grandmother's old farm. It's about fifteen miles west from here, it's on Bramble Hollow Road," Duke answered. "Audrey, I'm _sorry_," he went on. "I tried to fight it, I did. I-I just couldn't."

"It's okay, Duke. I know you must have tried to fight them. Have they-" Audrey questioned, her eyes swimming. She couldn't bear the thought of Nathan looking at her the way Duke had looked at her, his eyes filled with hate. "Have they turned Nathan?"

Duke looked at her, his eyes sad.

"They were working on him when I left to come get you," he told her. "Audrey, if I don't get back soon, they'll send Garrett down here to look for us, and you don't want that."

"All right," Audrey said. "You're going to take me back with you."

"Audrey, no," Dwight protested.

"You're going to send for backup, and Duke and I will go back. I'll try to buy us some time," Audrey told them.

"Audrey, the minute he gets back there, he's going to tell them we were here," Dwight argued.

"I can tell him to forget we were here, tell him that it was only him and Audrey," Elise spoke. "Go on, go back out to the truck. I'll be right behind you."

Dwight hesitated. He didn't like it, but it was the best plan to be had at the moment.

"You got 30 minutes Audrey. Starting now," Dwight told her. "Crocker, you do anything to her-"

"I don't want to," Duke said weakly. "But I can't fight it when your aunt-" he broke off, glancing back at Elise, and Elise nodded.

"I know," she murmured. "I haven't met anybody yet who could resist our Trouble."

Duke gazed at Audrey, and he gave her a small smile.

"I have," he said, his eyes on hers.

Dwight and Oliver left the building, leaving Audrey and Elise.

Audrey helped Duke lay down on the ground, with Elise keeping her hand on his neck. She knelt down next to him.

"You met up with Audrey. She was all alone," she said quietly into his ear. "You surprised her in an ambush. You fought with her, that's how you got the cut on your head," she went on. "She hit you when you weren't looking. But you won out. You subdued her."

"I subdued her," Duke answered softly.

"That's right. You'll sleep now, Duke. Sleep for five minutes. When you wake up, you'll have captured Audrey."

"Captured Audrey," Duke breathed, his eyes closing. His body went limp, and Elise took her hand from the back of his neck.

"Good luck," Elise said to Audrey, and slipped out of the hotel.

Audrey sat down on the ground and looked over to Duke, lying there alongside her. She brushed a strand of his hair from his face, and pecked his cheek.

"We're going to fix it, Duke," she said to him. She took a pair of handcuffs, and fastened them around her wrists. She then lay down a few feet away from him.

It seemed an eternity to Audrey, waiting for Duke to regain consciousness, and she was beginning to wonder if this was going to work, when she heard him stir. She opened her eyes, looking up at him.

"Typical," he growled, shaking his head. "Hit me when I wasn't looking," he went on, making sure the handcuffs were shut around her wrists before jerking her to her feet. "But I got you anyway."

"What are you going to do?" Audrey asked, and Duke put his face down next to hers.

"We're going to see some old friends," Duke said, fully reverted back to the Rev's minion. "I know one in particular who's missed you a great deal."

He dragged her to her feet, and led her out to his truck.

Nathan looked up at the little old woman. It was strange-she'd told him that the Rev was doing good for Haven—and he believed her. But at the same time, he still believed in Audrey. No matter how much the old woman tried to convince him that she was evil, he couldn't accept it. His mind hurt, two sides of his conscience warring with one another, and he wondered if Duke and Garrett were experiencing the same thing. Probably not Garrett; he would have had to have had a conscience to begin with. But was Duke trying to resist?

He saw the play of headlights in the window, and could hear the familiar roar of Duke's truck.

"He's back," Noah called from his spot by the window. He watched from the doorway as Duke went around to the back of the truck, and dragged out Audrey.

"Un-be-lievable," Noah grinned. "He got her."

"He just had to be properly motivated," Driscoll said. "There's going to be a lot of changes in Haven. This is only the beginning."


	7. Showdown In Bramble Hollow

**7**

_Audrey allows Duke to take her prisoner, in order to get back to the house to save Nathan, and put an end to the Rev's plans_

Dwight met up with the small group of Guard members he'd notified.

He didn't want to involve Haven PD; he had no idea of how many Troubled people Driscoll and his mob had held captive—or even how their Troubles might affect a non-Troubled person.

He knew how Margaret Hilliard's Trouble worked, and there was the little girl, possibly now Nathan under their control, and Duke and Garrett. So Driscoll had assembled one controller, two Trouble-killers, one guy who couldn't feel pain, and a kid who could raise the dead.

_So they get Margaret to control Nathan, Duke and Garrett—and then keep the kid around in case one of them gets killed carrying out the Rev's orders_, Dwight thought grimly. _I hope you know what you're doing up there, Audrey._

He focused on the little mix of Troubled and Guard people that he'd assembled. There was Tony, a former Navy Seal whose Trouble was unknown to most, but Dwight knew Tony's Trouble was that he attracted butterflies. As far as Troubles went, it was mild, but Dwight knew the big man would be embarrassed to no end if it were to come out. Dwight had told him he would be more than glad to trade Troubles with him anytime he was ready.

There was little Maddie, who worked as one of Duke's cooks at the Gull. He'd been surprised when he'd found out she was working there, given Duke's reputation around Haven as a Trouble-Killer.

But Maddie had told him that in reality, much of the staff at the Gull were Troubled. She also said that Duke was aware of his employees' assorted Troubles, and had held a big staff meeting at which he said that so long as they did not pose an immediate danger to the lives and well-being of others, they had no need to fear a visit from him. Maddie's Trouble was that any object she threw became a potentially deadly projectile. So long as she didn't throw anything, she was perfectly normal. But her throw was lethal-Dwight had once seen her sink a pebble six inches into an elm tree.

Maddie had also brought along Brady, her boyfriend, who was one of the Gull's fry cooks. It was a perfect fit for his Trouble, as he seemed to be fireproof, often grabbing hot pans straight from the ovens, and had even fished a coworker's wedding ring right out of a boiling fryer, all with his bare hands, his skin not even pink from the heat or the oil.

There were a few others assembled, all men that Dwight could trust implicitly; he did not want any overzealous Guard members who would be only too happy to put an end to Duke, or hurt Audrey, for that matter.

Oliver and Elise had joined in too, both to rescue their foster child, and hoping that perhaps Elise could talk sense into her aunt, to get her away from Driscoll's control, and get her to release Duke and Garrett from her Trouble.

"Everybody ready?" Dwight asked, looking the little group over. "I do _not_ want any shooting," he told them. "Not so much for me, but there's a little girl being held up there. I don't want to take any unnecessary chances. Use the Tasers if you have to," he directed.

The group nodded their assent, understanding. They loaded up into two vehicles, and started out for Bramble Hollow Road.

Duke marched Audrey up the steps and into the house, where they found Reverend Driscoll waiting for them in the living room.

"Well done, Duke," Driscoll praised, Duke's face registering delight. He spied the cut on Duke's forehead. "She gave you a fight, I see," he remarked.

"She hit me when I wasn't looking," Duke replied.

"But you still succeeded, and that's what counts," Driscoll told him. "Go get Garrett to tend to that cut. Detective Parker and I are going to have a little talk."

Duke hesitated a moment, and then left the room.

"Have a seat, Audrey," Driscoll gestured to a chair.

"I'd rather stand," Audrey retorted. "I don't feel like being sociable with a zombie."

"I am no zombie, Officer Parker," Driscoll told her. "Your reign of terrorizing the citizens of Haven is about to come to an end."

"I don't terrorize Haven. I'm trying to fix it," she retorted.

"But you are the cause of all of it," he growled at her.

"I know that. But I'm not that way anymore, I'm not Mara. We can find a way to fix it, not like this!" Audrey shouted at him. "Using Duke and Garrett as your executioners, forcing Nathan to turn against us," she went on. "I want to see Nathan."

"And so you shall," Driscoll told her. He jerked her by her handcuffs, and dragged her into the next room.

Nathan was still tied to the chair, and Audrey could see the little woman standing behind him.

"Nathan!" Audrey cried.

Nathan raised his head. She could see the conflicting emotions crossing his face. She knew he must be close to his breaking point where he'd either turn, or die. Because Nathan could not feel pain, he wouldn't know he was hurting himself resisting her until it was too late.

"This is Audrey, Margaret," Driscoll said. "She's the one hurting people."

"She has to be made to stop," Margaret said, her hand resting on the back of Nathan's neck.

"She has to stop," Nathan answered weakly.

"Margaret, this isn't right," Audrey told her, trying to reach her. "It isn't _right_ to hurt people. You're hurting him—and you're hurting my friend Duke," she went on.

"Margaret _freed_ Duke from your control," Driscoll told her. "She's doing God's work."

"Since when does God want us to kill people who are different?" Audrey asked, her voice rising. She was going to free Nathan and Duke from this, or die trying.

The others had come into the room, drawn by the sound of her shouting. Audrey noted Selectman Knoll, his assistant, Duke and Garrett. There was one other man she didn't recognize, but she wanted to keep their attention long enough to give Dwight and their rescue party a chance to get to the house without drawing attention to them.

"She's a liar, Margaret," Driscoll told her, his tone pleasant but firm, as though he were instructing a child. "Remember the Sixth Commandment, Margaret—thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor."

"She's a liar, and that's bad," Margaret said.

"Always telling lies," she heard Duke say.

"Liar," Nathan got out, and it was all Audrey could do not to burst into tears.

"Nathan—_please_ fight it," Audrey whispered. She could see he was trying to resist; but she also knew that if he kept trying to fight Margaret's Trouble, he could be hurt or die. "I love you, Nathan."

"Love me," Nathan croaked, the pain on his face evident as his true nature struggled to surface under Margaret's attempted control.

The Rev's mention of the Ten Commandments stirred an idea in Audrey's mind.

"Margaret," Audrey called to her.

Margaret raised her eyes and looked at Audrey. Audrey could see that Elise had been right. Margaret wasn't doing this deliberately; she was like a child, believing what an authoritative adult told her.

"Margaret," Audrey said, her tone firmer. "Do you know all the Commandments?"

"Yes," Margaret answered.

"Then what is the Sixth Commandment?"

"Thou shalt not kill," Margaret said smugly.

"Then do you think that's right telling Duke and Garrett to kill people?" Audrey questioned her, her shoulders pulled back, her back straight, her hands folded in front of her as though she were a parochial school nun scolding a student. _Who knows?_ Audrey thought. _Maybe I was one in a past life_.

She could see the hesitation in Margaret's face as she mulled over Audrey's statement, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw that same doubt cross Duke's expression. If she could break enough of Margaret's hold on him, maybe she could free him enough to help her.

"Margaret, no one knows the Bible better than the Devil," Driscoll told her, stepping in to salvage his handiwork. "Don't listen to her."

"But it is wrong to kill, Reverend," Margaret answered softly, turning her gaze on him.

Selectman Knoll snatched Garrett's gun from his belt.

"Just shoot her now and put an end to this," he said grimly, taking aim at Audrey.

Audrey closed her eyes, waiting for the impact of the bullet.

Two things happened at once. The front door burst in, Dwight coming in behind it, and fired his Taser, nailing Selectman Knoll right in the chest. He grunted in pain, and dropped, and Garrett grabbed up the pistol, firing at Audrey.

The bullet veered back away from her, and hit Dwight in the flak vest.

"What kind of a witch are ye?" he asked Audrey, his eyes wide, and then narrowed. "Then let's try this," he finished, taking a knife out of his coat as the rescue party poured in the door.

He made to lunge at her, but was grabbed instead and forced to the ground by Duke.

"I can't let you do that, Garrett," he said, fighting with his older brother.

"Took you long enough," Audrey gasped.

"Sorry, Audrey," Duke grunted, struggling with Garrett. "I was kinda busy."

Driscoll picked up a letter opener from the desk, and came toward Audrey.

"Some things just have to be done yourself," he growled, and then Audrey heard a dull thunk. Driscoll stopped, letter opener still poised in the air, ready to strike Audrey down.

He swayed uncertainly for a moment, and then fell forward, a wooden pencil sticking out of the back of his head.

Audrey looked up, startled, seeing Maddie standing there in the doorway.

"I didn't think I threw it that hard," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I just wanted to hit him with the eraser end. I just wanted to knock him out."

Margaret had turned loose of Nathan, and had backed away into a corner, her hands over her eyes.

Elise came over to her, along with Jane.

"Aunt Maggie," Elise called gently. "It's Lissie, don't you remember me? It's all right now, it's all right," she soothed, touching her aunt tenderly on the back of her neck.

"Oh, Lissie. I missed you so much!" Margaret said, hugging her neck tightly, Jane's reassuring kisses on her cheek.

"We're going to take you home with us," Elise soothed. "No more hospitals. Would you like that?"

"With my own room?" Margaret questioned.

"With your very own room," Elise promised.

"Right next door to mine, so we can visit all the time," Jane told her.

Audrey went to Nathan, who was shaking his head as though trying to clear the cobwebs from it.

"Audrey," he gasped. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she smiled, kissing him tenderly. She glanced around. Dwight's rescue party had rounded up the would-be reformers of Haven, and Dwight was reading Selectman Knoll his Miranda rights, the charges being multiple counts of kidnapping, illegally transporting a minor across state lines, assault, attempted murder, and anything else he could think of to throw at him.

"Get off me, Duke," she heard Garrett say irritably, pushing at his little brother. "I'm meself again."

"Got some questions for you, Garrett Crocker," Dwight said meaningfully.

"I'm sure that ye do," Garrett sighed. "An' that's all I've got ta say till I see me lawyer."

"Must be the Crocker family theme song," Dwight remarked, and led him out to join the others.

Duke ignored Dwight's comment, and came over to Audrey and Nathan, helping her to undo the ropes that held Nathan to the chair.

"I'm sorry, Nate," Duke told him. "I-"

"I know. It's okay," Nathan said. "She was really in my head too," he went on, shaking his head. "But she couldn't make me fully hate you, Audrey," he told her. "Because I love you."

Audrey's blue eyes filled with tears again, and she kissed Nathan yet again.

"Daddy!" they heard a child's squeal, and Oliver got on his knees as the little girl threw herself in his arms.

Elise ran to her, and the little girl put her arms around her sobbing foster mother, all the emotions of the last month coming to a head, and Audrey smiled, happy that at least one family was restored again.

Only once Haven PD had arrived and loaded all the respective bad guys into the paddy wagon, were they finally able to assess the situation.

Duke, Garrett and Dwight had gone off together in a truck, taking Driscoll's body with them, and Audrey rode with Nathan back to the police station with Oliver, Elise, Margaret, Jane and Liesel.

Oliver and Elise told them that they had talked it over with Olivia Carpenter; and it had been decided that they would remain in Haven for the time being, staying out at Carpenter's Knot. Margaret would be safe from outside influences there, and the children would be home-schooled, until their Troubles could be better managed. It would also give the widow much-needed help with maintaining the old hotel, as Oliver was a master craftsman, with Elise and the girls doing the cooking and cleaning in exchange for room and board.

Dwight decided against pressing charges against Garrett. He reasoned that Garrett was under Margaret's influence, and couldn't be held accountable. But he also told Garrett that if he were a smart man, he wouldn't let the sun set on him in Haven.

"Duke, I can protect from those that would want to see him dead because of your family's Trouble," he'd told him. "I can't make you that guarantee, Garrett. Not with your reputation. You do understand?"

"I understand quite well," Garrett had answered. "I'll make me own arrangements. I'm used ta lookin' afta me own skin."

"Do that," Dwight muttered.

Audrey yawned. She was so tired, she felt as though she'd been up for days on end, and she leaned into Nathan's shoulder.

"I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me, not the other way around," he smiled, kissing her forehead.

"Mm," Audrey answered sleepily. "But you're so comfy."

Nathan saw Duke and Dwight both come back into the police station. Audrey noticed Garrett was not with them.

"Where's Garrett?" she called to Duke.

"Dropped him off at the _Rouge_," came his reply, as he followed Dwight into his office, carrying something.

Nathan nudged Audrey, and they followed them inside.

"Did you two take care of—him?" Nathan asked.

"Oh yeah," Duke replied. "The Rev will _not_ be back. Ever."

"Wish I could be as sure as you on that count," Nathan muttered.

Duke set a small wooden box about a foot square on top of Dwight's desk with a small grin.

"You can be," he told him."Pretty sure nobody's got a Trouble that'll work on _that_."

"We took him out to Morrow's family's place. It was the only way to be sure," Dwight said. "I'll have his ashes put back in his grave, and nobody ever needs to know what happened."

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm beat," Duke said. "So I am going to go and spend a little time with Garrett before he leaves again."

He walked past, putting a gentle hand on Nathan's shoulder, and out into the growing dawn of a new day.

"Is he still suffering the aftereffects of Margaret's Trouble?" Nathan asked. "Thought he and Garrett didn't get along."

"He doesn't seem to be," Audrey said. "Maybe he wants to avoid the same situation as what happened with Wade. Maybe Duke can teach him how to manage their Trouble without ending up like their father and Wade did."

"Maybe," Nathan hedged. "I'm just glad we headed off all that before the Rev's little revolution got off the ground."

"Same here," Dwight answered.

Some hours later, Nathan and Audrey were finally home at his house, when Nathan's phone rang.

"You answer it," Nathan said sleepily.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Beattie," Audrey yawned. "What's up?"

"Hi Audrey," Beattie the harbormistress, greeted. "I thought that you and Nathan should know—Duke terminated his slip lease this morning. The _Cape Rouge_ is setting sail in about twenty minutes."

"He's what?" Audrey cried. "Did he say where he was going?"

"No, he didn't. He just came in and asked how much he owed on his slip lease, said he wasn't going to need it anymore. I told him, he paid, I asked when the _Rouge_ was sailing, he said half an hour, and he was gone."

"I can't believe it," Audrey said, aghast, "Thanks for letting me know, Beattie." She hung up.

"Can't believe what?" Nathan mumbled, still half asleep.

"Beatty says Duke canceled his slip lease for the _Cape Rouge_—that he's about to sail out," Audrey said. "Why would he do that, unless-" she trailed off.

"Unless he's not planning on coming back," Nathan finished quietly.

"I can't believe he'd just leave and not even say goodbye," Audrey got out. "W-what about the Gull? What about—everything?"

"Haven and the Troubles were here before Duke Crocker was. I imagine they'll both still be around without him," Nathan told her. But he couldn't deny the heaviness in his own heart. He was angry, that Duke cared so little that he couldn't be bothered to say goodbye to them—and saddened too—that he guessed that it had finally gotten to be too much for Duke, living here in Haven.

Sometimes Nathan wished that he could just sail away from Haven with Audrey and leave it all behind. But he couldn't; just as he knew Audrey would never leave either, not till the Troubles were resolved, one way or another.

"Come on," Audrey said, swinging her legs out of bed. "Maybe we can still catch him, Nathan. We can't just let him leave like this."

"Audrey, you know how he is. He'll probably be gone a day or so and then turn back around and be here in Haven again."

Audrey looked at him.

"Do you want to take that chance?"

Nathan reached for his sweater, and Audrey helped him get dressed.

She drove down to the docks, hoping to catch Duke and maybe talk him out of leaving Haven.

They rounded the corner to where the _Cape Rouge_ was moored and were greeted by the sight on an empty slip, only a dark mark on the dock where the gangplank had been.

Audrey and Nathan both climbed out of her sedan, and walked to where Duke's ship had sat moored for the last few years.

"She's gone," Audrey said disconsolately. "He really left."

Nathan put his arms around her, and they stood there in the silence, looking out at the ocean, hoping to see some small glimpse of the _Cape Rouge_ as she and Duke left for parts unknown.

There were padding footsteps behind them, and then a voice.

"Okay, I'll bite—what are we looking at?" Duke asked from behind them, squinting out at the ocean.

Audrey and Nathan turned and looked at him, startled, and then turned back to see if perhaps the _Rouge_ had magically reappeared.

"Duke, your ship," Audrey blurted. "I-she's gone!"

"Good eye, Audrey," Duke answered, grinning.

"Did Garrett take her?" Nathan asked. "We can notify the Coast Guard, head him off at-"

"Garrett did not steal the _Rouge_," Duke said patiently. "I gave her to him."

"_You what_?" Audrey said, dumbfounded.

"I gave Garrett the _Cape Rouge_," Duke repeated.

"But _why_? You've had her since you were 21," Nathan said. "You _love_ that ship!"

"I do love her; but it was time to let her go," Duke shrugged. "She was just rotting away sitting here in the slip. I never have time to take her out anymore, so I gave her to Garrett," he went on. "Along with my client list," he grinned. "Man's got to make a living somehow."

"So you're officially out of the smuggling business?" Nathan asked with half a grin.

"Well, on _water_ anyway," Duke said mildly, with Nathan giving him the stink-eye. "But at the same time, I'm afraid that day I always said would never come may have finally arrived," Duke sighed dramatically. "That I might have just become a land-bound law-abiding citizen." He looked out at the water, wistful and sad. "Garrett's a good sailor—he and the _Rouge_ will be good for each other, I think."

"Sounds like you two reconnected," Audrey told him.

"We did. When we were Troubled together—we talked, I mean _really_ talked to one another. Even though we were under Margaret's influence, Garrett and I could still think and reason on our own to some degree," Duke continued as they walked up to Haven Joe's, who was just pulling up his blinds. "We got all our family issues out in the open. And then this morning, while we were packing up my stuff, I told him the best way I dealt with having my—our-Trouble was not to seek Troubles out. To not use our curse as a weapon unless he had _no_ other options, that the high was not worth the cost in the long run."

"Maybe Garrett isn't such a bad guy after all," Audrey observed, gazing at Duke. "Must run in the family."

"Don't be fooled, lady," Duke said sternly. "I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing," he bragged. "And in fact, I have a little something for _you_ too this morning."

He laid down a sheaf of official-looking papers in front of her.

"I've been meaning to give you these for the last few days, I just haven't gotten to, what with being dead and then possessed by a Trouble and all, it kinda slipped my mind," he finished. "So—here you go."

Audrey unfolded the papers, glancing through them, and her mouth dropped open.

"This is an _eviction notice!_" she goggled.

"I have to live _somewhere_," Duke replied. "I figured above the Gull was as good a place as any. I won't have to drive to work anymore."

"And just where am _I_ supposed to live?" Audrey demanded.

"We could be roomies," Duke grinned.

"There's only one bed."

"I don't take up much room," Duke teased. He glanced over at Nathan. He nodded at him, and then kicked Nathan under the table with his foot.

"That's your cue,_ Nathan_," he said pointedly.

Nathan glared at him, and Duke comprehended.

"Three's a crowd," he remarked, and strolled outside to talk with Haven Joe's wife Emily, who was sweeping the sidewalk.

Audrey turned to Nathan, a smile on her face.

"Is there something you wanted to say, Nathan?" she asked tenderly.

"Yeah," he answered shyly. "Audrey. Audrey, I-"

"Yes, Nathan?" she asked, holding his bandaged hand in his.

"Oh, for God's sake, Nate," Duke yelled from outside. "Just ask her to live with you already!"

"Well—yeah," Nathan finally got out. "I want you to move in with me full-time, Audrey."

"Oh," Audrey answered, somewhat surprised. "Oh—all right," she beamed, holding Nate's hand. I think that we could give that a try, I guess. Since Duke's _evicting_ me," she called towards the door.

"Wasn't _my_ idea," came Duke's response back.

Audrey turned her head back to Nathan, who had a small smile trying to hide itself, but was failing.

"Did you put him up to evicting me?" she said, trying to be angry, but her smile kept getting in the way.

"Well—maybe kinda," Nathan said. "Audrey, you're there all the time anyway, so there's no sense in having to pay Duke rent every month-"

"Oh, that is _so_ romantic, _Nathan_," came Duke's call. "Way to sweep her off her feet."

"Don't you have a business to go run?" Audrey demanded, turning toward the door.

"Nope—I'm closed tonight for a private party. Engagement shindig."

"Oh, yeah? Whose?" Audrey asked.

"Ours," came Nathan's answer from behind her. "I hope."

Audrey turned back around to face Nathan, who was holding a small box that Haven Joe had placed in front of him. He managed to open it, and Audrey sat there stunned, looking at the cushion-cut diamond that sparkled like blue fire nestled in its black velvet box.

"I originally had this big plan where we were going to go stargazing up on Tuiwiouk Bluff, because that was where we first ever worked together and then all this stuff happened, so I guess the direct approach is the best approach," Nathan said, quite possibly the longest sentence she had ever heard him say. "I love you, Audrey; I think I have loved you from the day we met—and I will _always_ love you, come Hell, High Water or Haven," he laughed, and then sobered. "But Audrey Prudence Parker," he went on, his voice shaking only slightly. "Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

"Yes," Audrey answered, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Yes, Nathan Thaddeus Wuornos, I will."

"Well, thank God he finally got _that_ out the way," Duke sighed, coming back in and sitting down at the table. "He's been walking around with that thing in his pocket for two weeks and driving me crazy." He looked down at the ring, his face expression both serious and wistful.

"But at least he did it," he said, and tenderly kissed Audrey's cheek. "Congratulations," Duke told her, and looked at Nathan. "I'm not kissing you."

"I'd prefer you didn't," Nathan answered.

"You two are never going to stop, are you?" Audrey asked.

"Probably not," Duke and Nathan chorused, and Audrey laughed.


	8. What's In A Name

**What's In A Name**

_No Troubles, just a fun piece of fluff!_

_Audrey Parker finds out that Duke isn't Crocker's real name..._

Audrey Parker was on a mission, and nothing was going to deter her. She had a deadline to meet, and she had every intention of winning her wager with Duke Crocker.

They'd been playing poker at the Gull last evening after closing, she and Nathan, Dwight and Duke. There was a lull in the Troubles; Vince had noted once that they tended to lessen in the fall and winter months; and he'd been right. For the last few months, there had only been sporadic episodes, and they had been enjoying the illusion of having 'normal' lives.

But spring had come again in Haven, which meant warmer weather, and she knew that soon the Troubles would start popping up again, but for now, things had been quiet. So quiet, in fact, that they'd started having poker nights every Thursday evening after closing at the Gull.

Audrey was feeling pretty confident about her hand; she had two kings and two queens, and could see that Nathan had on his Bluffing Face, which meant he had nothing. Dwight was unreadable, and Duke, who knew? He could have four queens, which would be surprising, considering she was holding two of them.

"I call," Duke said, tossing in two chips. "Fifty bucks."

"Too rich for me," Dwight said, putting his cards down.

"Same here," grumbled Nathan.

"All right, big man," Audrey said, "I'll call." She laid her cards down. "Two pair."

"Straight flush," Duke bragged, laying down a matched set.

"Dammit!" Audrey swore. "I would have sworn you were just bluffing that time!"

"One of these days you'll learn not to taunt the master, Grasshopper-San," Duke grinned, raking the chips toward the considerable pile he'd accumulated.

"Mr. Poker-Shark, that's your new nickname," Audrey groused.

"I already have a nickname, thank you," Duke replied, shuffling the cards for another round.

"Oh? What is it?" Audrey asked.

"Old-Pain-In-The-Ass," Nathan commented, and Dwight chuckled. Duke gave them both a dirty look.

Audrey smiled. "No, seriously—what is your nickname?"

"Duke," Duke answered as though it were obvious. "I mean, you don't think my parents actually _named_ me Duke, do you?"

"Really!" Audrey exclaimed. "So what is your real name?"

Duke merely smiled mysteriously and began dealing cards for the next hand of poker.

"All right, _don't_ tell me," Audrey said. "Nathan, you've known him all your life—what is Duke's real name?"

"I-I don't know," Nathan answered, surprised at this revelation. "I've always called him Duke, everybody has. Even his mom and dad called him Duke." He looked curiously at him. "It even says Duke Crocker on his driver's license. I thought it _was_ your name."

"It is my name—_now_. I had it legally changed," Duke said. "Are we playing poker here? I'm on a hot streak."

"No, c'mon now, this is interesting. What is your real name, or what was it?" Dwight said. "I bet it was something awful like Percival or Wilberforce."

"Percival Wilberforce Crocker," Nathan pondered. "That's a get-your-ass-kicked-at-recess name. I'd go by Duke too if I were you."

"My name is not Percival or Wilberforce, or any combination of the two," Duke informed them, sorting through his cards, discarding one and picking up another.

"I'm going to find it out, Duke," Audrey told him.

"No, you won't," Duke grinned.

"Oh, yes, I will," Audrey argued. "You can bet your life on that."

"I can, huh?" Duke asked, laying his cards down. "All right, I'm a gambling man," he grinned. "I'll tell you what, Audrey—if you can find out what my original name was by—" he glanced at the clock. "Six p.m. tomorrow night, which is my birthday party," he went on. "I will give you one free month on your rent," he said, getting surprised looks from Nathan and Dwight. "A one hundred-dollar bar tab, _and_ you can even have it written on my birthday cake for everybody to see it. You have till six o' clock tomorrow night, starting now."

"And what do you get if I lose?" Audrey asked, and she saw Nathan's expression darken out of the corner of her eye.

"I get a free pass on all my parking tickets," Duke grinned. "However, I'll settle for bragging rights."

Audrey was astonished at Duke's generosity in his wager. But it was a challenge that she just couldn't resist.

"You're our witnesses," she told Nathan and Dwight, who nodded. "Six o' clock, tomorrow night. You're on—_Duke_, or whatever your real name is," she stated, stretching her hand out across the table to Duke, who shook on it. "Now—are we playing poker here or what?"

"About time," Duke muttered, and picked up his poker hand.

The next day, Audrey seated herself at her desk in the police station, and pulled up Crocker, Duke in their files. While he had several aliases listed on his rap sheet, it only said that his real name was Duke Crocker.

"He must have had it changed when he was really young," she said. "None of you guys' teachers ever called him by another name?"

"They called him plenty of names in the teacher's lounge, I'm sure," Nathan remarked. "But no, everybody's always called him Duke."

Audrey snapped her fingers. "It'll be on his birth certificate," she said. She got up and went down to the County Records office, and stopped at Rosalie's desk.

"Help you, Audrey?" Rosalie said.

"Yes, I'm looking for a birth certificate for Duke Crocker," she told her.

"Look under the C's," Rosalie gestured, and Audrey dug into the files, flipping through until she came to the Crocker section.

There were birth certificates listed for Roy Crocker and Simon Crocker, and some other names Audrey recognized from Duke talking about them, but nowhere could she find a certificate for a baby boy that had been born in the mid-to-late-1970's to Simon and Marie Crocker, or any other Crockers, for that matter.

"It's not here," Audrey told her.

"Yeah, I noticed that too a few years ago," Rosalie remarked. "Duke's birth certificate seems to have up and walked away."

"Well, why didn't you say something about that _before_ I started digging through here?" Audrey asked, her hands on her hips.

Rosalie's mouth twitched, trying not to smile.

"Because Duke called me and asked me not to," she laughed. "He said he didn't want to spoil your fun."

"Fun, huh?" Audrey said, somewhat incensed that he'd outsmarted her. "We'll see about that, _Mister_ Crocker."

She headed back to her office, where she found Nathan trying not to smile.

"Oh, you're in on it too," she snapped.

"No," Nathan grinned. "Just surprised that you care this much to know. He's not going to tell you. Or make it easy for you to find out either. You could send off to the capital for a copy of his birth certificate, but it'll likely take days or weeks to hear back from them-too late to win your bet with Duke."

"Humph," Audrey grumped. "That one's probably _disappeared_ too."

She sat down at her desk with a thump. Her eyes traveled over her desk and landed on a copy of _The Haven Herald_, and she brightened.

"Vince and Dave will know," she said triumphantly. "They know everything about everybody in this town!"

"Yeah, and they're _so_ forthcoming with their information," Nathan cracked. "So good luck with that."

"Duke's from here—so his birth announcement should be in the archives—all I have to do is look through them," she said airily. "I don't need luck. I'm pretty smart, you know," she finished, and walked out.

"Yes, you are, Parker. But so is Duke," Nathan answered to no one, and went back to his paperwork.

As Audrey walked down the street to the _Herald's_ office, her phone rang. She didn't even have to look at the Caller ID to see who it was. She'd seen Duke's truck parked along the street.

"Hello, Duke," she answered. "Enjoying your birthday so far today?"

"So far, so good," he replied. "How about you? Having fun?"

"Mm," Audrey answered. "Rosalie said that your birth certificate seems to have come up missing in city records."

"Well, that was rather careless of them," Duke commented.

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" she said.

"I'd like to think so," he replied offhandedly. "And you're supposed to _wait_ for the signal to cross the street, Officer Parker."

"Are you following me around?" Audrey asked.

"No, I'm doing the Gull's deposit at the bank. I saw you go by. Where are you off to now?"

"You're so smart—you tell me," Audrey told him.

"Well, if it were me, I'd go pay Vince and Dave a visit at the _Herald_," Duke said thoughtfully. "But there's the thing, Audrey—I wasn't actually born _in_ Haven; remember, I was born in Derry. My mom gave birth to me on the way to the hospital. Guess I just couldn't wait to get here," he went on. "So, anyway, if you were thinking of looking through their birth announcements in the _Herald_, you're gonna come up with bupkiss," he finished, chuckling.

Audrey made a growling sound, and Duke laughed and hung up. She still determined to see Vince and Dave. They were bound to know Duke's real name.

"Hello, Audrey," Dave greeted as she came through the door.

"Guys, I have a wager going on with Duke," she began.

"Yeah, he called and told us," Dave said. "Are you taking side bets?" he asked eagerly. "My money's on you, Audrey."

"Sorry, guys, it's a personal wager. But thanks for the compliment. Let me guess what Duke said—he said for you not to tell me anything, huh?" Audrey groused.

"Actually, no, he said to let you look at anything you wanted to about him," Vince told her, coming into the room with a file folder. He set it down on the desk. "But he's always been listed as Duke Crocker in any photographs or articles."

"You've never heard of him being called anything other than Duke?" Audrey said.

"I've known Duke since he was this high," Vince told her, gesturing around his knee. "And I only ever heard Simon or Marie call him Duke. In the old days, a child's true name was kept hidden, to help protect it from evil spirits or something," he went on.

Audrey carefully read through all the articles, and she saw that Vince and Dave were right; even back to his Social Studies exhibit in the fourth grade, he was listed as Duke Crocker in the picture.

She came across the photo of her as Lucy Ripley, standing there on the beach, holding a six-year-old Duke's hand. She felt a little sad that she couldn't remember what he'd been like as a kid. Nathan had always made him out to be a holy terror as a child; but for some reason, she felt that wasn't always the case, looking at little Duke's face in the photo.

_Another dead end_, she thought, and left their office feeling dejected.

Her phone rang again. _Guess who_, she thought, and answered.

"Yes, Duke?" she sighed.

"No help, huh?" he asked, sounding sincere. "I _did_ try to tell you, Audrey."

"Yes, you did," she sighed.

"Do you concede?"

"Not a chance," Audrey told him. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Nope," Duke replied.

"Then I don't concede," she said stubbornly, and Duke chuckled.

"Good—because this is just too much fun."

"Are you taking it out on me because of Mara?" Audrey asked.

"No! Not at all," Duke protested. "I'm helping you to exercise your brain. It's been almost two weeks since we've had any Troubles. I'm just helping to keep you on your toes, Audrey, that's all."

"So nobody in Haven knows what your real name is, do they?"

"Well, a few people did," Duke drawled. "Eleanor Carr knew it."

"She's dead. I can't exactly ask her," Audrey pointed out.

"True. And Chief Wuornos knew it."

"Also dead."

"Annnnd-" Duke drew the word out for the maximum dramatic effect. "Lucy Ripley knew it."

"_Are you telling me I knew your original name_?" Audrey asked, incredulous. She searched her memory, trying to recall anything from when she was Lucy Ripley, but those memories were locked away somewhere in the furtherest recesses of her mind.

"You did. Or rather, Lucy did."

Audrey wanted to strangle him, or would have, if she'd been able to reach him through the phone.

"You're an evil man, Duke Crocker," she said.

"Sticks and stones, Audrey, sticks and stones. And you now have six more hours," Duke answered, and hung up again.

Audrey pondered on where to turn now. She found herself wishing Claire were still here; she could have hypnotized her and possibly she would have remembered Duke's true name. She thought of where else she could look—and then remembered that Duke's family had been members of The Good Shepherd Church. Not that Duke attended, but he'd been baptized there as a baby. Maybe he would be listed in their records.

She hated it, but if she was going to discover Duke's real name before six o' clock tonight, she was going to have to go to The Good Shepherd.

Their new minister, Rodney Turner, was not as virulently anti-Troubled as Edmund Driscoll had been, but Audrey could tell that she was not necessarily welcome at the church, seeing the hard stares of more than a few parishioners.

"May I help you, Detective Parker?" Reverend Turner asked. He wore thick glasses that made him look like a bug, and was nowhere near as intimidating as his predecessor had been.

"I was wondering if I might see your registry of baptisms," Audrey began. "I'm looking for a gift for a friend," she fibbed. "I want to get it engraved with their initials, but if I ask them, it'll give it away."

Reverend Turner didn't look as though he believed her flimsy lie, but didn't say so. "What years were you looking for?" he asked, his tone frosty.

"Late 70's, early 1980's," Audrey answered.

Reverend Turner gestured, and Audrey followed him to his office, where he drew out a leather-bound volume from the bookshelf.

"This covers from 1960-1980," he told her. "If your—friend-was baptized here, it will be in there."

"Thank you, Reverend Turner," she said kindly, and he turned and left the office.

Audrey flipped through the volume, slowing down at seeing the name Crocker listed on a page back in 1978.

"Ha, _ha_, Duke Crocker," she whispered, reading the column. "Baptized on this day, May 20, 1978, son of Simon Andrew Crocker and Marie Suzanne Crocker—_what_?" she gasped. "Oh, come _on_!"

The pen that had been used to write the passage with had been of the old-fashioned nib variety, and had blotched the page, permanently marring the name of the baby they'd baptized, leaving only the first letter of the name, D, and part of the surname Crocker showing.

"Is there something the matter, Detective Parker?" Reverend Turner asked, coming back into the office.

"The page is marred," she showed him. "Right where the name is."

"Oh, yes, that would have been Reverend Hancock, Reverend Driscoll's predescessor," Turner said. "He was rather old-fashioned. He liked to write with a nib pen. He was quite a talented calligrapher when he was younger," he remarked, gesturing to a beautifully worded copy of The Lord's Prayer that hung on the office wall. "Of course, by this time, his hand wasn't too steady with age. It looks like he pressed too hard and released too much ink," he finished. He glanced at the name. If it meant anything to him, he said nothing. "It's a shame. I'm afraid you'll just have to take the direct approach and ask your friend their intials, Detective Parker."

"Yes, well, thank you for letting me look anyway," Audrey finished lamely, and headed out the door.

"You're welcome," he answered evenly, closing the door firmly behind her.

Audrey went back to her car, and thought hard, trying to dredge up anything from when she was Lucy.

Her phone rang yet again.

"_What_, Duke?" she snapped.

"It's Nathan," Nathan answered. "Is he annoying you with this?"

"No, no, he's not. I just keep hitting dead ends with it," she sighed. "I've tried everything I can think of," she went on. "I guess that'll make him happy for me to admit defeat."

"There is_ one_ more thing you could try," Nathan said slowly.

"What's that, asking him? I already tried that," Audrey told him.

"You could look in his grandfather's journal," Nathan suggested. "I can't believe I'm telling you to go break in Duke's place to find out his real name."

"Do you think it would be in there?" Audrey asked. She'd looked through the journal with Duke, both as herself and as Mara, but they'd always been looking to see if they could find the cause of a Trouble, never to see if there were any births listed in the pages.

"There's a Crocker family tree in the front of the journal," Nathan told her. "I remember that because Duke had told me he had listed Jean's name on it under his descendants."

"Well, she is still his daughter, Nathan. Even if she was conceived from a Trouble," Audrey replied.

"I know. I think he does genuinely care about her," Nathan said. "So that got me to thinking; and I figured it stands to reason that Duke's real name would be on there too."

"Can you keep him busy at the Gull while I look?" Audrey asked.

"I guess so," Nathan said. "Provided he hasn't hidden it somewhere on the Gull—you know Duke. He's a Crocker through and through—if it's important or valuable, he hides it."

"Yeah, I know," Audrey sighed. "All right—I'll look for it. I only have three more hours anyway."

"All right. Let me know what you find out before 4:30-I gotta pick his cake up from Rosemary's before she closes," Nathan finished, and hung up.

So Audrey found herself going on board the Cape Rouge.

_Is this really so important that I'm jeopardizing our friendship over it?_ she thought to herself as she prowled around the ship, looking for his grandfather's journal. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, and frowned at her reflection, and she realized how childish she was being.

"It doesn't matter what his name is," she said aloud to no one. "The only name I need to know is Duke."

She dug in her purse, and found the locket that she'd given him, back when she was Lucy Ripley, thinking back on when he'd given it to her, telling her that she had given it to him 27 years earlier, and suddenly, she was standing in front of a small child. She looked down at herself, and she could see the ends of her hair were dark.

_I'm Lucy_, she thought. _I'm remembering!_

_ "Don't go, Lucy," the boy that was Duke said, his eyes full of tears. "Please stay."_

_ "I'm sorry, honey. I have to go," she heard herself saying. "But I want you to keep this for me," she told him, taking her locket from around her neck, and placed it around Duke's little neck. She knelt down, and kissed his cheek tenderly, feeling his arms hold her tightly. Her own cheeks were wet with tears. "You keep that to remember me by, okay?"_

_ Little Duke nodded, trying not to cry. "Will you ever come back?" he asked._

_ "I hope so," she answered. "Maybe—someday. Goodbye, my little Duke of Earl."_

_ "Goodbye, Lucy," he answered tearfully, _and the memory was gone.

Audrey jerked to her senses, and she was back in her own time. But now she knew. Now she remembered Duke's true name, and she smiled to herself. There was just enough time for her to get home and get cleaned up for his party.

The crowd at The Grey Gull was thick as various Havenites milled around, buying the guest of honor round after round of drinks, wishing him a Happy Birthday, and Duke was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Audrey came down the stairs, wearing her blue dress that Duke liked so much, with her hair done in curls.

"Well, Officer Parker," Duke admired. "You look nice tonight."

"It's a special occasion," Audrey smiled.

Duke leaned in. "Did you find out anything?"

Audrey smiled, smirking. "Guess you're going to find out when Nathan gets here with that cake, won't you?"

Duke's smile slipped a little, but was distracted by the bartender telling him they needed more tequila from the storeroom.

Audrey saw Nathan pull up in the parking lot, and go around to the passenger side, taking out a rectangular box.

A cheer went up in the crowd. By now, most of Haven knew of Audrey and Duke's wager, and by all accounts, the betting was pretty evenly matched on who was going to win.

Dwight opened the door for Nathan, and he, Dave and Vince followed him over to the table.

"Okay, where's the birthday boy?" Vince called out, and Duke came back onto the floor.

"Cake's here," Nathan said. "And no, I haven't peeked. C'mon, Duke, open the box and let's see what your name really is."

Duke approached the box slowly, and lifted off the lid as though he expected a rattlesnake to jump out at him.

Inside, the cake had been decorated to look like a beach scene, replete with sugar sand and marzipan seashells and seahorses, and it the middle was inscribed a message:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUKE

A groan of disappointment went up from the crowd, and Audrey lit the candles in the middle.

"Make a wish, Duke," she said.

Duke grinned, and drew a deep breath, blowing out all the candles in one swoop, the crowd cheering before launching into a chorus of _Happy Birthday_.

The party lasted well into the evening, but eventually, the bar was empty except for the four friends, gathered around outside at the fire pit.

"So you couldn't find it out after all, eh, Audrey?" Dwight asked Audrey.

"Oh, I found it out," Audrey replied.

"Then what is it?" Nathan asked. "Come on, I'm dying to know."

"No," Audrey said. "I think if Duke wanted to tell us, he would, and we just have to respect his wish for privacy."

"Thank you, Audrey," Duke answered, raising his beer bottle. "That's the most gracious concession to defeat I've ever heard."

This time, it was Audrey's turn to smirk. He'd led her on a merry chase today—but it hadn't been all bad. She had actually enjoyed the mental stimulation of the hunt for his real name. But he wasn't going to get off that easy—she wanted to have some fun too.

"But I will tell you this much," Audrey answered over the rim of her martini glass. "_Duke_ is an anacronym."

"It's his _initials_?" Dwight said. "You have _four_ names?"

"I had a lot of people to be named for," Duke said, giving Audrey a cutting glance. "But yes," he exhaled. "The first letters of my full given name spell out D-U-K-E, and I've been called Duke since before I can remember."

"But that's _all_ I'm going to tell you. The rest you'll have to figure out for yourselves," Audrey told them.

"That was a lucky guess," Duke told her. "You're bluffing. You don't know really know what my name is."

Audrey got up, and went and sat down next to Duke, and leaned in, cupping her hand around his ear, whispered something to him.

Duke's smile vanished, and he looked at her somberly.

"I'm right—right?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Thank you for not telling."

"Do I still win the month's free rent and the bar tab?" she teased.

"Well, I don't know," Duke hedged. "It still said Duke on my cake."

"He's got you there, Audrey," Dwight put in.

"But she found out, even if she's not telling," Nathan said. "She ought to get something."

"How about we split the difference? Half the rent, a fifty dollar tab and _you_ take that little piece of knowledge to the grave with you," Duke told Audrey.

"Deal," Audrey said, and pecked his cheek.

"C'mon Duke, just the first name," Nathan wheedled. "Let's see-David. Dalton. Darren. Derek. Dagwood," he guessed.

"No, no, no, no, and um, _no_," Duke replied.

"Douglas," Dwight guessed. "Or is it Dwight, like mine?"

"Wrong on both counts," Duke grinned.

"Some things in Haven are just best left a mystery," Audrey said, smiling.


End file.
